Alien V: LV426
by Sonic Sculpture
Summary: Nearly a century after the destruction of the atmosphere processor, a team of researchers is sent to LV-426 to salvage what they can from the derelict spaceship. But what they find is almost beyond imagining.
1. Chapters 1 through 3

For any returning readers; I've done some troubleshooting to fix errors, smoothed out the punctuation for a slicker read, and given Stanford a few more colorful lines. For any newcomers: I should probably tell you up front that this story isn't based on body count. It's intended instead to return to the type of suspenseful sci-fi that made Alien both so cerebral and so successful. It is classed as an Alien/Predator novel because there are Predators in it. In fact, it does much to explain their relationship. But they are not treated as main characters since this isn't a standard Alien versus Predator effort. Instead, it is...

**Alien V**

**LV - 426**

**(**_**Sequel to Alien 3 and prequel to Alien Resurrection**_**)**

(Based on the stories by Dan O'Bannon, Ronald Shusett, James Cameron, Jim and John Thomas, Joel Silver, Lawrence Gordon, John McTiernan, and Paul Anderson)

**Preface**

**_The Prehistoric Sky_**

Ancient orbs cascade

across horizons I once knew

I've watched them cross the twilight

where the sky is no longer blue

But the sky, I'm told, is eons old

and we're without a clue

regarding what's now really there

as time erodes our view

Above us seem to stretch bright vistas

beautiful and vast

But all we see are nonexistent

days of heaven's past

We do not even know which stars

no longer join the cast

Contrasted with the speed of light

our years fly by so fast

The further out the object is

the more pronounced will be

the parallax effect of time

between that light and me

We look into the void of space

but time is all we see

And caught between the fossil sky

and fossil rocks are we

Our telescopes are useless

where the wings of time do fly

Today a star explodes

but our descendants will watch it die

Relic interstellar light

unfolds before my eye

What does it mean that I have seen

the prehistoric sky?

**Chapter 1**

_**Derelict Dreams**_

_There should be a dictionary that defines insanity as the distance between the stars. It is a distance we believe ourselves to have overcome through one of the most extreme applications of medical technology. But I've come to question that conclusion. I've found it disconcerting enough to board a jet aircraft and find myself only a couple of hours later in a place that was over a thousand kilometers from my departure point. But to simply go to sleep and awaken in orbit around another world is absolutely surreal. I am convinced that it is not something to which anybody can truly become accustomed, no matter what assurances science extends. But to suddenly find myself here, circling the very cradle of catastrophe, passes far beyond the realm of drug-induced dreams and decidedly enters the nadir of nightmares._

_This is where my great-grandmother's death really started. You could argue that she lived for more than half a century after initially escaping this place, but I'd insist it actually took over half a century for it to finally kill her. She just didn't know it. I didn't expect such an appalling opportunity to arise within my lifetime. I guess she must have passed along her proclivity for misplaced optimism. I admittedly owe my choice of career specialization to my ancestry, having lost someone to something so altogether alien and hoping to one day perhaps prevent some further misfortune. I was however thinking strictly in terms of microbiology. I honestly never thought I'd be called upon to dance with this specific devil. I not only question the wisdom of returning here, but even the sanity of such a decision._

_In our quest to understand the alien, is it possible that we're actually becoming alien ourselves? Having basically abandoned our original biosphere, can we be so certain that our development as a species is not compromised? Can we really trust our assumptions when fashioned in the unfamiliar reaches of space? How can we quantify our convictions when almost all forms of measurement are based on planetary dimensions, yet we now seem to consider ourselves cosmic?_

_I have spent a couple of decades examining extraterrestrial organisms. But the most extreme form of exobiology may actually be represented by encapsulated human beings in hypersleep, enforcing an entirely unnatural state of unconsciousness and enduring the delusion-drenched dreams which it inexplicably entails. The process artificially lengthens our lives, sometimes very substantially, and it certainly conserves our supplies. But does it preserve our souls?_

Emilio Esperanza, the Director of the Bio-Weapons Division for the Weyland-Yutani Corporation, turned from the elongated viewing portal and faced the room of assembled scientists. A wide range of scarcely suppressed emotions greeted his gaze. Some were openly anxious to hear what he would say, having waited many years for the opportunity that now suddenly, and somewhat surprisingly, had presented itself. Some had just been brought aboard and had no foreknowledge of the industry in which the others considered themselves as already engaged. Emilio patiently waited until everybody was seated.

"In case this courtesy has yet to be extended," he genially began, "let me be the first to welcome you to the Centaur."

He noticed a slight movement to his right. Even though she was painfully well aware of her location in terms of stellar cartography, Eleanor Ripley winced as she realized that the ship within which they were assembled was named after something only half human. Although he was quite acquainted with her ancestry, Emilio was not certain why she had reacted in such a way. He knew Ellen Ripley, Eleanor's great-grandmother, had become the sole survivor of the Nostromo. He also knew that, because of being in hypersleep for decades, Ellen had outlived her only child, a daughter. The daughter died without having ever married. But contrary to what was reported to Ellen Ripley, her daughter had a child that had been conceived _in vitro_. That child had also been a girl. Because of spending so much of her young adulthood in hypersleep, the unavoidable result of an occupation that required extensive space travel, her daughter, Eleanor, was still in the prime of her life. It was a wicked twist of fate that had restored her last name.

Perhaps because her travels didn't allow for much intimacy, Eleanor's mother made a terrible mistake in the matter of marriage. Eleanor's father was a deceitful criminal. He was eventually caught, convicted, and then executed for acts of space piracy. Eleanor's mother retook her maiden name. To protect Eleanor from possibly being associated with her father's infamy, she successfully petitioned the courts to allow the change of her last name as well. Emilio knew this assignment would probably be difficult for Eleanor. It was her own fault however that she was the most qualified consultant in the company.

"We are now in orbit around LV-426, a planetoid that is itself in orbit around Livinum, a gas giant in the Zeta 2 Reticuli system. About a hundred and fifty years ago, one of our commercial towing vehicles, the Nostromo, set down here after detecting a transmission that indicated a possibly intelligent origin. Homing in on its beacon, they found a derelict spaceship – altogether alien. The freighter's captain and two other members of the crew entered the derelict. They had accomplished only the briefest reconnaissance of the ship when an alien organism attached itself to one of their team. They immediately evacuated back to their craft. Because the alien organism was somehow able to block their medical scanners, they didn't initially realize that the comatose crewman was actually being used as a host. The creature, which finally tore its way out of his chest, succeeded in killing all but one member of the crew. That flight officer set the ship for self-destruct and escaped in a shuttle," Emilio recounted as emotionlessly as he could.

Someone coughed. He could not be certain whether it was from anxiety at the sheer terror of his story, or if it represented impatience because so many of those aboard were already aware of the planetoid's history.

He continued, "Back then, Zeta 2 Reticuli was still beyond the outer rim of occupied space. Over time, as programmed, the shuttle's CPU automatically began shutting down non-essential systems, so it could continue to support its only occupant in hypersleep. It thereby escaped the attention of anybody's scanners until it was finally chanced upon by a deep space salvage team on the other side of the core systems. During the more than half-century that had elapsed, a terraforming colony, Hadley's Hope, was established on LV-426. In fact, it had been there for something like twenty years by the time the shuttle was recovered."

"Were they warned?" Eleanor interrupted as Emilio paused for breath.

"We must take into consideration that the sole survivor told the examining panel an unacceptable story about an alien creature that gestated inside a living human host and had concentrated acid for blood," Emilio carefully countered, reassured by the effect this explanation had on most of the recipients. "Please remember that at that time there had already been a colony on LV-426 for a couple of decades. Initially, though unfortunately, the report was not taken seriously."

"But were the colonists ever warned?" Eleanor asked again, enunciating each word.

"A transmission was sent," Emilio shrewdly replied, trying to be evasive concerning the specifics. When he saw that Eleanor was obviously not going to be satisfied with his answer, he continued, "Its exact nature has never been determined, though it obviously didn't go through the proper channels. While it's possible that it didn't really constitute a warning, let us not be too quick to judge the people of the past. One thing that probably has not changed in over a century, and might never, is the fact that terraformers tend to be roughnecks, opportunistic in the extreme. The most stringent possible warning would probably not have kept them from trying to find something of value on that derelict ship."

"Point taken," Eleanor answered, suggesting submission.

"When contact with Hadley's Hope was suddenly lost, the survivor of the Nostromo was contracted as a consultant, and a military ship was sent to determine the disposition of the colony on LV-426," Emilio continued. "We actually have their consultant's account that was dictated to help them prepare for what they might face. Unfortunately, it was not enough. Only one colonist was actually rescued, a child at that, and she did not even live long enough to make it back to Earth. Whether the result of a firefight that erupted inside it, or due to their original drop-ship crashing into it, the atmosphere processing plant was damaged and its core eventually went supercritical. Only three persons and one Artificial ultimately escaped before it blew up. Their ship, the Sulaco, later crashed on Fiorina 161 and even the consultant finally died. She had however transmitted the entire account of what transpired on LV-426 before leaving orbit. Since that transmission was sent directly to the military, this planetoid has been under their jurisdiction ever since – up until now."

Knowing this was going to surprise most of the scientists in the room, Emilio paused and allowed them their startled response before continuing, "Fallout from the destruction of the atmosphere processor left the better part of this planetoid radioactive for almost a century. We tried to get the military to let us send in a survey team of Artificials. But even Artificials have rights, and they would've been so contaminated that they would've been unable to have any interactions with anyone or anything else for decades. While it's true there are suits that would've protected human explorers, they're so bulky that movement in them is nearly impossible. Certainly, they would've complicated the reconnaissance of anything as constrictive as a spaceship. So, we've waited."

"And now?" asked Eleanor, speaking for the group.

"The news I have for you is a bit of a mixed bag," Emilio admitted. "This isn't the first time a thermonuclear explosion has happened on a habitable world, as I am sure you all know. The military now has the technology for speeding up the reclamation process, but it involves evacuating most of the contamination into outer space. Essentially, everything that our atmosphere processor achieved has basically been undone. Since you will need spacesuits anyway, to protect you from the residual radiation, this may not be so serious a concern. The derelict now exists in several segments, courtesy of the shockwave from the annihilation of the atmosphere processor. Military probes have certified the absence of any cellular activity whatsoever in the alien remains, all of which are in various stages of decomposition. We may still be able to learn much from their structure, and of course we will attempt to understand their genetics, but the real prize is the ship itself."

When several of the scientists aimed questioning expressions in his direction, Emilio explained, "The things we really hoped to learn from the alien organisms require them to be alive. The infected member of the Nostromo described a layer of seemingly luminous mist that covered the eggs and reacted when broken. And the perfect predator that later leaped out of his chest apparently was able to project an electromagnetic image of itself that fooled a scanner and kept its intended prey from understanding where it really was. I can only assume that this layer of reactive mist was still functioning when the colonists came aboard. Since the power source for the beacon, which the Nostromo had followed, had apparently been exhausted by that time, it is almost unthinkable that something still had enough organic energy to generate such a field. The ship could've easily been there for hundreds, or even thousands, of years. What we're really hoping to understand is the technology of the craft itself. Its propulsion system in particular could be many light years ahead of ours. Excuse the pun."

"As much as I don't want to question such an obviously unprecedented opportunity," Eleanor carefully began, "it seems to me that many of the people in this room are quite surprised by how suddenly this situation has developed. We didn't know that the military was so close to giving us the go-ahead?"

"Understandably, there are others who are interested in what can be learned here," Emilio easily answered, visibly undisturbed by her question. "But the Colonial Marines understand just how invested we are here. We've been fiscally taken to the cleaners by this planetoid. The release date we were initially given, along with everyone else, is still decades away. They've undoubtedly known for years that they were ahead of schedule. But they waited until they were ready to release it; and then, they told us first. Consider how many military contracts we have. They know on which side their bread is buttered."

"I see," Eleanor softly responded, while wondering just how much butter had actually been spread in order to edge out the competition. But then, she added, "Fiscally taken to the cleaners?"

"The Nostromo was an M-class star freighter worth forty-two million adjusted dollars, minus payload of course. The atmosphere processor was actually even more expensive than that," Emilio explained. And then, noticing the wary way she was regarding him, he quickly added, "And of course that's not even mentioning the crew of the Nostromo, the colonists or the soldiers and the incalculable loss of life."

Seated immediately across from Eleanor, Colin Endicott, Departmental Head of the Space Engineering Section, suggested, "The power requirements of that ship's systems may very well be exotic in the extreme. We might have to extract entire control consoles and set them up in a laboratory situation where we can determine those requirements."

"That's why we're on the Centaur," Emilio proudly replied. "This is nearly our newest ship and it has extremely spacious bays that should easily accommodate the enterprise."

Taking advantage of the lapse in Emilio's presentation, Eleanor asked, "Do we enjoy access to the scans made by the military probes?"

"Yes, but we've rather moved beyond that now. What we really need now is a direct examination," answered Emilio, seeming somewhat confused by the question. "The main thing they give us is the certainty of our safety."

"As the leading exobiologist onboard, I need to agree with their findings. It's a simple matter of empirical science," Eleanor softly explained, correctly predicting the approval of every other researcher in the room. "I'd really appreciate the opportunity to inspect those scans before anybody gets deployed on that planetoid."

"Do you have a cause to question the accuracy of their assessment," Emilio asked, demonstrating the intuition that had facilitated his rise through the ranks of the company.

"Perhaps," Eleanor reluctantly admitted. "There's one aspect about this site that has always caused me concern. Since I never expected anybody to gain access to it in my lifetime, I had planned to simply file my recommendation to the company with regards to it when I retired."

Emilio actually took the time to seat himself in the chair at the head of the long table before receptively saying, "Talk to me."

"Kane, the crewmember from the Nostromo who was first infected, described seeing thousands of eggs in the belly of that ship. As you mentioned, he and his shipmates had accomplished only the briefest possible reconnaissance before his infection. During that, they had already found the fossilized remains of one member of the derelict's crew, and it had obviously served as host to the thing that killed it – although at the time this wasn't understood. It was the Colonial Marines from the Sulaco who discovered that these eggs are all laid by an Alien Queen," she patiently explained. And then, meeting his gaze with surprising steel, she insistently said, "We need to account for the following possibilities."

"Go ahead," he agreed.

"Possibility one: the fossilized crewmember they found was the ship's only occupant and we are able to at least identify the remains of the Alien Queen that gestated inside it and then laid all those eggs. Possibility two: we find other infected crewmembers but are able to account for each of the alien organisms that erupted from them. Possibility three: we find a discrepancy in either of those numbers," she summarized.

"What would that mean?" Emilio asked with barely suppressed excitement.

"That we need to determine if there're natural caves anywhere on LV-426 and, if so, whether they're deep enough to have possibly protected anything from a thermonuclear shockwave and its residual radiation," Eleanor evenly answered. "I'm afraid it's possible that the infestation was never actually restricted to the ship."

"Whoa," Colin involuntarily uttered. "You think there might really be something alive down there, even after a holocaust and an ensuing century."

"We just need to make certain that there isn't," Eleanor defensively answered. "Had it not been for that shock wave, the eggs on that derelict might even be viable. The Alien Queen may have laid them and then crawled off to die. Such behavior is not unknown in the animal kingdom. But these things are exotic in the extreme. It is just as possible that, after filling the belly of a ship that might have initially been full of foodstuffs, she went out looking for another lair. And if there was a second Alien Queen; that guarantees at least the probability of an additional brood."

"The site itself is secure, and we can easily erect a boundary around it that would be impossible to breach," Emilio confidently declared. "Our presence on the surface is what will really confirm the company's claim to this location. You're insisting that we postpone such a vital deployment because of a purely theoretical underground alien presence?"

"What if the suspected cave system is situated directly below the derelict?" Eleanor pointedly inquired. "If you want to go in with a team of Artificials and make sure that isn't the case, you'll get no argument from me. But make sure you have your affairs in order."

"I'll see that you get immediate access to those scans," Emilio bitterly replied, clearly crestfallen. However, seizing the moment like a true company man, he then added, "I will in fact see that everybody gets access to those scans in addition to both the reports from the Nostromo's flight officer, regarding which I had already made such arrangements. I'd advise each of you to take advantage of the opportunity to familiarize yourselves with the information. I will need your recommendations concerning the equipment that you'll need at the site. Meanwhile, I'll work on the drop-ship assignments and the rotation schedule."

Colin, ever the consummate observer, did not fail to notice how Emilio had turned a possible setback into an opportunity. He was also very aware of Eleanor's inclination for repeating a person's words back to them. She had in fact done this to the director more than once. While in those instances she seemed to merely be qualifying her comments, the approach was apparently punitive when applied to him. Being the head engineer, he was exceedingly excited about examining the artifacts of an advanced alien technology. Disappointment at any delay had caused him to question her concerns, an outburst that had earned her ire. As senior exobiologist, she bore ultimate responsibility for the safety of the researchers. Knowing that a series of failures in the past had claimed the lives of over two-hundred people, she could tolerate no rebuttal.

He earnestly regretted the turn of events. She was extremely intelligent and had the slender shape of somebody whose metabolism had been regulated by hypersleep more than once. Her piercing eyes set in such a beautiful face and surrounded by raven-black hair completed a very pleasing picture. Deciding to take a chance on attempting to make amends, as everyone got up from the table, he sidled around the obstacle and moved to within easy earshot.

"I was wondering if you'd mind if we examined those scans together," he graciously suggested. "With your background in exobiology and my knowledge of engineering, we might be able to take an almost ergonomic approach to the endeavor."

Flashing a conspiratorial smile at him and giving no indication whatsoever that she actually understood the duplicity of his purpose, she replied, "That's an interesting idea. Your place or mine?"

"Didn't you just come aboard? Have they already assigned your quarters?" he asked in reply, obviously befuddled.

"I know where my workspace is," she slyly answered. "I guess I probably should've asked whether you meant your lab or mine."

"Oh," he stammered, momentarily taken aback.

"Whatever did you think I meant?" she playfully pressed.

"I must admit that I was somewhat confused," he shamefacedly answered, pausing to bite his lip. "I apologize."

"Not necessary," she laughed. "It takes some people awhile to get used to my sense of humor."

Glancing out the viewing portal beyond the head of the table, at the rim of the barren orb around which they were in orbit, he acutely answered, "Your sense of humor may be our only saving grace in this situation."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," she teasingly suggested. "But I think we could at least find a room with a better view."

Exiting the conference room, Colin turned and led the way to his lab. It seemed less than fair to force her to try to familiarize herself with the interface in her workspace while he waited. He had been onboard the Centaur long enough to know where to look for the scans to which they were all now being given access, and it took mere moments for him to find them.

From orbit, the Sulaco had verified the position of the derelict. The photos had been included in her great-grandmother's transmission to the military. They were now the only ones that showed the ship in about the same condition it had been when encountered by the Nostromo's crew. Being on an urgent errand to an endangered outpost, the Colonial Marines had headed directly for Hadley's Hope. Having defeated the Alien Queen, Ellen Ripley discovered that the derelict had not been beyond the shockwave of the explosion. Had she been familiar with the targeting systems of the Sulaco, she might have elected to add some additional incineration to the site. But she was not, and there had been no possible assistance from the other survivors.

As the recordings from the probes began playback, they were on initial approach to their target. The ship was severely segmented. It had been basically strewn into a series of splintered sections by the shockwave. The uppermost half of the enormous U-shaped center section had been sheered off by the atomic storm. It scarcely resembled the ship in the orbital photos. The probes separated from each other as their controllers chose to expedite their inspection. The debris was now scattered across an immense area. Colin quickly assigned the scans to separate screens and then paused the playback on all but one. Eleanor watched with interest as her associate's fingers danced quickly across the keyboard. Not surprisingly, he selected the probe that was headed towards the center of the wreckage.

"We could each follow a probe and use our own monitor," he suggested, "but I think we'd be far less likely to miss something if we double up."

"Agreed," she said. "We can certainly take the time to review each one individually."

The remnants of egg sacks were everywhere, with their ejected contents littering the landscape for what seemed like kilometers. The spider-like cadavers and been first fried and then frozen by the abrupt absence of atmosphere. She wondered if they could have possibly been more gruesome if they were alive. She hoped to never find out. The probe moved toward the remnants of some of the sheered-off upper section. Colin and Eleanor could see color changes as the probe's operator brought various imaging filters into play.

Initially, Colin believed that the otherworldly appearance of the wreckage was purely the byproduct of the functioning of the filters; but as the probe closed in on the closest of the colossal shards, he quickly realized he was wrong.

"What in the world?" he involuntarily whispered. He then incredulously exclaimed, "It looks like the ripped open remains of a desiccated cadaver, not at all like a spaceship!"

"Perhaps I should have prepared you," Eleanor apologetically offered. As he paused the playback and turned to her, she explained, "Being an exobiologist, I am already quite acquainted with the testimony of the Nostromo's sole survivor and the orbital shots taken by the Sulaco. The team from the Nostromo that went into the derelict actually described its interior as having an almost organic appearance. They even went so far as to say that the fossilized crewmember they found looked like it had been grown right out of the chair in which it was reclining."

Breathlessly glancing back in understandable disbelief at the impossible image that was now frozen on the monitor, Colin reluctantly replied, "It seems my participation in the project may be pointless."

"What do you mean?" Eleanor anxiously inquired.

"I'll have no chance of understanding that ship's propulsion system if it was actually grown instead of constructed," he patiently replied. "I think we may be in over our heads here."

"If only you knew how many years I've been saying exactly the same thing," Eleanor agreed, smiling dryly.

"And to think that Emilio is going to be expecting answers from us," Colin concluded.

"Shall we continue then?" she asked, ceremoniously indicating the frozen image.

"I guess we really have no choice," he answered with distinct consternation. "If we're going to keep spreading out into space, unless these parasitical predators succeeded in eliminating them altogether, we will eventually run into whatever it was that designed this astonishing ship. And if these spider-like monstrosities did drive so superior a civilization into extinction, it makes the needfulness of our understanding even more compelling."

"That about sums it up," she quietly agreed as he toggled a control on his keyboard and caused the playback to resume.

With his eyes still fastidiously fastened to the screen, Colin suggested, "Considering how obviously advanced they were in terms of genetic engineering, is it possible that the creatures who overcame the crew were actually some kind of weapon? I mean: maybe it was supposed to be used against an enemy but it somehow got loose on their ship?"

"If it's really some sort of bio-weapon, it has to be of the doomsday variety," Eleanor emotionally answered. "I doubt if their involvement in such an industry is truly consistent with our original assumption about their civilization being advanced. I'd prefer to believe that the one is the opposite of the other."

"While I'd prefer not to contradict that conjecture," he amiably answered, "I still have to question how something so insidious managed to stowaway on their ship. Since it has the ability to block a medical scanner, it's almost like it was designed to defeat detection. What if it was a weapon, but not theirs? If it was engineered to be used against them, I'd have to say that it certainly succeeded."

"That still puts us up against something that's equally as advanced," she caustically complained.

"Not if your idea about a doomsday weapon is right," he carefully countered. "In that case, the weapon might be all that still remains. We just need to find all the places where it was deployed and place them under irrevocable quarantine."

"The fault is in the finding," she softly insisted, quietly correcting him. "Their ability to avoid detection is what makes them so dangerous. Keep in mind that an entire colony of over fifty families shared a puny planetoid with thousands of them for some twenty years before anybody was the wiser. If this had happened on a habitable planet, the loss of life could've been in the millions, or more. And I suppose our highly advanced society would simply sacrifice all of them to ensure that the contamination was contained. There has to be a better answer."

"Navigation," he muttered, only half aloud.

"What?" she sympathetically pressed. She could see that he appeared to have just experienced an epiphany.

"Emilio was thinking just in terms of possible profit," he began, trying to work his way back to his insight, "which is why he mentioned the propulsion system. However, he was putting the priority in the wrong place. The opportunity we have here isn't about income; it's about survival. The ability to go faster will only hasten our inevitable rendezvous with danger. But if we can possibly salvage their navigational system, then we may be able to tell where they've been. We'd be able to anticipate the places where the predator may've been released. And we could use that information to avoid them."

"Okay," she replied, impressed, "now that we know everything for which we need to be looking, let's try our best to find them."

Only a few minutes later, they found the fossilized remains of a crewmember with a ruptured chest cavity. The corpse's posture clearly did not indicate that it had ever been attached to a seat.

"We now know that at least two embryos succeeded in gestating," she summarized. "And at least one of them was an Alien Queen. We need to the body count to match up."

"So far the only dead predators I've seen are the hatchlings," he replied, not trying to hide his revulsion. "And there certainly are too many of them."

Over the next several hours they succeeded in finding a total of fifteen cadavers that all seemed to have been members of the original crew. Each had a ruptured chest cavity and appeared to be approximately part of the same species. There were odd differences in their body structures that suggested the possibility of genetic modifications. It seemed to Eleanor that the alterations may have related to the onboard duties of each individual, but she considered it too incredible to make the observation out loud.

"I had really started considering the possibility of the alien representing some kind of biological weapon some time ago," she grudgingly admitted. "I'd even hope the fossilized crewmember was actually the mad scientist that created it and that it got loose and killed its creator before it could be used for its intended purpose, causing the crash of the ship. That would have made LV-426 the only place in the galaxy where the thing ever existed. However, unless there were over a dozen coconspirators in the plot, the presence of the other corpses makes such a premise appear progressively more hopeless. This looks to me like the scene of a terrible tragedy, not an instance of unspeakable poetic justice."

"If any of the shards of this spaceship are supposed to represent its technology," he replied, avoiding her observation, "I'm unable to recognize anything. However the largest single remaining section of the ship is directly ahead. Perhaps we'll find something more promising in there."

In the playback, the military probe maneuvered its meticulous way into the uncanny confines of the bizarre behemoth. Although the curious compartment around it was now only partially encapsulated, they encountered the fossilized remains of the crewmember that had first been found by the unfortunate trio from the Nostromo. As the probe circled around the alien artifact, Colin paused the playback and made careful notes concerning the control panel before which the corpse was positioned. Eleanor could tell by the way her companion pensively pursed his lips that he was challenged in the extreme by what he was seeing. She carefully elected not to ask any questions about his observations.

The next compartment, perhaps because it was even more centrally located and not quite as spacious, was actually intact. It had the telltale characteristics of a control room. As the probe carried out its circuit of the enclosure, Colin paused the playback numerous times to take notes. He also attached a digital marker to those clips of the recording so it would be a simple matter to return to them.

Before the probe had completed its reconnaissance of that largest remaining section of the ship, they found the fossilized remains of two final crewmembers, bringing the tally to eighteen. They also finally started finding the remnants of the monsters for which all of those unlucky crewmembers had unwittingly acted as incubators. To Eleanor, this part of their activity was the single most important. She and Colin now needed to account for all eighteen alien eruptions. At that point, they had only discovered half the needed number.

Fighting fatigue and slowing the search to compensate, they completed their review of the recordings. Though they did finally find the shriveled remains of one Alien Queen, sickeningly horrendous even in death, they were unable to account for all eighteen of the aliens. The count was one short.

"Not good," Eleanor concluded, leaning tiredly back in her seat and placing her arms across her forehead. "Could we have missed something?"

"We didn't," Colin concluded. He then hesitantly suggested, "But perhaps the probes did. All we can see is what they recorded. We need to dispatch probes of our own to the surface and look at the outlying areas. Maybe the one we're missing was merely thrown completely clear of the wreckage by the shockwave. Why don't you get some rest while I go present our findings and our request to Emilio? I'll take care of getting us eyes on the ground. It's going to take a little while to get them launched and on site."

"Thank you," she gratefully replied, gently touching his arm as he arose to depart.

After he left she retreated to the crash couch at the back of the lab in which they had been working where, after stretching out and finally falling asleep, she then had the most disturbing dreams of her adult life. She was literally relieved when Colin came back, only about an hour later, and awakened her.

Handing her a steaming cup of coffee and gesturing back over his shoulder towards the colleague who had followed him into the lab, he said, "This is Stanford Preston. He's a telemetry specialist. He's going to be controlling the probe for us."

"I've already dropped it on the planetoid and stationed it next to the site," he politely added. "We can start whenever you're ready."

Rolling from the crash couch, and making use of a colloquialism that had somehow survived for centuries, she offhandedly answered, "I was born ready."

With her attention focused on the cup of coffee, she missed the amused expression that was exchanged between the two men. They then shadowed her back to the console where, with only a few quick keystrokes, Stanford transferred control of the probe to their station.

"I took some orbital shots of the site," he volunteered, "and I think I understand what you want me to do. You want to look further downrange of the explosion, right?"

"Yes," Eleanor readily agreed, pausing between sips of her coffee. "We're somehow missing the remains of an alien organism. We're hoping it was simply thrown outside the search radius by the shockwave."

"Okay. If it's out there, I'm sure I can find it for you," Stanford reassuringly answered.

Nearly an hour later, when the search had failed to find the intended target, he said, "Let me pull up the shots taken by the Sulaco and put them beside the scans I just took."

The discrepancy between the sets of pictures was immediately apparent to all three observers. The Sulaco had photographed the derelict in exactly the same location where the team from the Nostromo had first found it, sitting on top of a wide rocky ridge. But the shockwave had apparently pushed it over the edge, while shredding it. The debris began on the down slope and spewed into the valley below.

"We still haven't examined the site where the shockwave first struck the ship!" Colin exclaimed. "Maybe something dislodged during the initial impact. We need to search the top of that plateau."

When another half hour of exploration still failed to produce the expected discovery, Stanford surprised his colleagues by concluding, "When all other possibilities have been eliminated then whatever is left, however unlikely, must be the answer."

Without further explanation, he then directed the probe further back in the direction from which the shockwave had come, sending it across the other side of the ridge. This obviously seemed altogether outrageous to his associates who, seated on either side of him, questioned his decision in stereo. But they quickly recanted their criticism when the unexpected landscape rolled into range and revealed the very type of frightening feature that Eleanor had initially suggested.

"Are those caves?" she anxiously asked, unconsciously recoiling from the screen.

"Yes, and quite a concentration of them it seems," Stanford answered with scientific detachment as he scrutinized the screen. Abruptly understanding that the discovery had produced an emotional response, he then asked, "Why does that worry you?"

She slipped a sidelong glance at Colin, who took it upon himself to answer, "We will need to carefully catalog every entrance; and then, we'll need to explore each enclosure. It is possible that our worst expectations were just realized. The infestation here may not have been entirely neutralized."

"What?" Stanford demanded. "I thought we were just searching for remains! Are you saying one of those things might actually still be alive down there somewhere?"

"Let's hope not," Colin countered. And then, turning back to Eleanor, he added, "You were right; except they weren't exactly under the ship, unless the caves extend back that far, they were just on the other side of it."

"I hate being right all the time," she sighed with honest exasperation.

"If we're going to be at this a lot longer than previously projected, I'll need to contact Director Esperanza," Stanford unexpectedly objected. "We thought you only needed me to help you find some missing remains. After that, I was supposed to locate the very best specimens of each kind of creature and use the probe to bring them aboard. Which type of alien is it that you're looking for in these caves?"

"That's the hell of it," Eleanor emotionally answered. "We don't really know for sure."

Seeing the disbelieving expression on Stanford's face and anticipating the possibility of a very unprofessional confrontation, Colin quickly interjected, "Although we accounted for one Alien Queen, probably the one that laid all those eggs in the ship, we really have no idea concerning the percentage of hatchlings that come out as Queens. If it's one out of a hundred, we might be okay. If it's one out of a couple of dozen, we're probably not."

Carefully composing herself before offering an observation that was almost certainly going to startle both her associates, Eleanor quietly stated, "There are some organisms with ovipositors that are capable of choosing the kind of egg they lay. And if the survival of their colony is in question, they'll instinctively create queens. The odds of the escapee being anything else simply don't merit mentioning. In all honesty, I just didn't want to own up to the obvious."

There were several seconds of stunned silence, before Stanford finally thumbed the switch on the intercom and shakily said, "Director Esperanza, would you please report to the engineering lab at once?"

It took several minutes for them to explain the situation to Emilio after he arrived. His excitement was easy to see. He offered to send out a second probe, but Eleanor insisted that one was as much as she could effectively keep track of at a time. She was happy to have her associates assisting her, but she didn't want to dump the burden of observation on anyone else. Emilio seemed disappointed, but said he understood. He then instructed Stanford to continue assisting with the search for as long as such help was needed. The last thing Emilio did before he left was have the telemetry specialist arrange for the feed from the probe to also display on the screen in his office.

Returning to their initial effort, they resumed their reconnaissance of the perforated and exceptionally alien landscape. The hillside was almost a honeycomb. None of them had ever before beheld a region so profusely riddled with pits. Using the orbital pictures, they established a grid overlay and proceeded to map the multitudinous apertures. The process was as tiring as it was time-consuming. It took three hours just to identify all the locations into which they would then need to look. They tried to assign some priorities to these places, basing them on the length of the respective rocky conduits as revealed by the radar returns. At long last, they concluded their cataloging.

"Now its time for some serious spelunking," Stanford announced, not quite capturing the adventurous spirit he was struggling to suggest.

"Thank God it's really just a probe that's at risk," Eleanor tiredly countered.

"Amen to that," Colin concurred.

After eliminating all the openings that seemed to extend the furthest, some of which dove deep beneath the rocky ridge, the team then turned their attention to the ones that suggested the most distinct curvature. However, after what seemed like unending hours of exhaustive exploration, their extremely systematic search had still yielded no positive results. And they were now only left with what seemed like the least likely of locations.

"Could they have blown one out of an airlock before they were finally forced to land here?" Colin angrily asked. "How could we have been so wrong? What are we missing?"

"I truly appreciate your probe's impressive imaging systems, so don't get me wrong," Eleanor said, speaking to Stanford. "But is it equipped with anything as old-fashioned as flares? Do we have any way to illuminate the entire area?"

"Yes, I can do that," Stanford answered. "Just let me put it in hover over the base of the hillside and I'll fire one above each quadrant of our search grid."

"Look sharp, boys," she encouragingly instructed. "We're exhausted. And if we don't figure this out in the next few minutes, we'll have to get some sleep. I'm certain neither of you need me to tell you how unspeakably pleased Director Esperanza is going to be with all of us if that's the case."

The probe could not only fire flares, but it could even synchronize their ignition. Light was soon spilling all across the desolate hillside. Eleanor overlaid the search grid on her screen and looked for anything that might represent and oversight. As something caught her attention; she nudged Stanford, indicated her screen, and asked, "What's that?"

"It's just a shallow depression, a sinkhole of some type," he offhandedly answered.

Unconvinced, she asked in reply, "Would you please take the probe in closer and let me get a good look at it?"

"Whatever, no problem," he said shrugging, slightly slurring his words in his fatigue.

As the probe began to move closer to the selected location, Eleanor noticed that the diameter of the depression was equal to that of any of the actual caves they had already examined. More proximate inspection suggested a strange geometry to the arrangement of the boulders comprising the bowl. At close range, it appeared to have been built.

"Do we have any way of determining whether the ground is solid on the other side?" she asked, uncharacteristically squinting at the screen.

"I could put the probe right on it and hit it with a pulse of ground-penetrating radar," Stanford sleepily answered.

"Do it," she quietly requested.

Moments later, the probe touched down in the base of the bowl and transmitted the penetrating signal. Stanford had been sitting with his head tilted back, looking across his cheeks at the screen. He suddenly straightened and leaned forwards as the radar return resulted in construction of an unexpected image.

"Oh my giggly God, there's a deep tunnel below the blockage," he rasped. Colin had been nodding but quickly came to complete alertness as the telemetry specialist, leaning even further forward, asked, "What's the stuff between the boulders? What is that?"

"Resin," Eleanor simply said.

"Resin?" Colin echoed, unable to follow the inference. "Where did resin come from?"

"From the Alien Queen hiding on the other side of the obstruction," Emilio answered as he strode into the room at that moment. "Good work team. You've hit the mother load, if you'll excuse the pun. Now we just need to go in there and get her."

"We?" asked Eleanor, demonstrably startled by the suggestion.

"Well, not all of us," Emilio laughed. "After all, that's your field of expertise. I suppose you'll want to get some rest first, which I perfectly understand. But you might not have to be satisfied with dissecting fossilized cadavers. We could soon have a live specimen for you to study."

"First, it's very doubtful that we're going to discover anything alive in there. Exposure to radiation has probably already been fatal to whatever we may find," Eleanor resolutely replied. "And secondly, capturing dangerous organisms alive is not in my job description. I'm an exobiologist."

"Right, you're an exobiologist," Emilio agreed. "So how isn't it in your job description to capture alien organisms?"

"What you're after probably won't fit on a microscope slide," she said. "Exobiologists tend to be strictly researchers. A live capture of this kind requires an exo-zoologist."

"What's the difference," Emilio insistently asked.

"Exo-zoologists are in it mostly for the thrill of the hunt. They tend to be roughnecks, opportunistic in the extreme. They probably marry terraformers," she impishly answered.

Emilio could not help but laugh out loud at her parody of his earlier description. Colin and Stanford had both been in attendance at the director's presentation and immediately recognized the way in which she was repeating his earlier description back to him. Being exhausted and completely appreciating her attempt to introduce humor into the situation, they added their amused outbursts to his.

"I don't suppose you'd happen to know of any that you might even recommend," the director queried, after allowing the hilarity to die down.

"I know that some of the core systems have extensive zoological exhibits which they employ such people to maintain, but it would take some time to get someone all the way out here," she answered.

"I am certain it would, and I know how much you would hate to delay our operations here," Emilio said with the slightest suggestion of sarcasm. "After all; the longer we wait, the greater the chances of someone else jumping our claim. So I guess the question that I really must ask you is this: would you actually be satisfied with trusting the safety of this operation to anyone else?"

Colin found himself hoping that Eleanor would never regard him with the disdain that she aimed at the director in the next moment. The tension between the two was painfully perceptible even to her exhausted associates. The stalemate lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an extended nightmare in hypersleep.

"Damn you," Eleanor eventually answered, to which Director Esperanza surprisingly failed to flinch. "Do you absolutely swear to implement my recommendations, even in the event that we recover a live creature and I ultimately recommend its termination?"

"I do so solemnly swear," Emilio evenly replied, adding, "and I do so in front of these assembled witnesses."

"Then I accept the assignment," she condescendingly concluded.

Neither of her associates understood the inference as Emilio then rhetorically asked, "All things considered, Eleanor, how in the world did you ever doubt it would come down to this?"

Without a further word the director arose and headed for the exit as Eleanor turned to Colin and Stanford and said, "We'd better go and get some rest. We're going to need it. In the interest of preserving our species, we absolutely cannot allow any mistakes this time."

**Chapter 2**

_**Queen for a Day**_

_Maybe if I stepped outside this ship into the vacuum of space I'd be able to wake up from this nightmare. It would have to be about as safe as what they're wanting me to do. I've visualized so many scenarios over the years, but none where I was calling the shots. How did I let myself get put in a position where I could bear primary responsibility for the extermination of my race? How can I hope to proceed? Even with all the most advanced equipment at my disposal, can I actually expect to gain any appreciable advantage over an Alien Queen in the midst of her den? Why did she have to go and close herself inside that tunnel? Wait a minute. Many animals hibernate. Some even seal themselves inside their burrows. If we can avoid disturbing her dormancy, it might give us an advantage._

Eleanor stirred from her supine position upon the bed in her frugal lodging, rolling to the side as she reached for the intercom switch. She had only located and made herself comfortable in her almost monastic accommodations a few moments before; hence, she doubted that she would catch Colin already asleep. Since it took several seconds for him to respond, she hoped he was merely in the midst of getting ready to retire. He sounded quite disheveled when he eventually answered though.

"I've got something I'd like you to sleep on," she said, trying to suggest that she had no intention of interrupting his rest.

"I'm not trading pillows with you. And I don't' care what you're offering in exchange," he replied, surprising her with a jest.

"Oh come on," she crooned, playing along. "I'm sure we can work something out."

There was a substantial pause before he finally replied, "Under other circumstances maybe, but I'm honestly way too tired. What's on your mind?"

"A little engineering enigma," she answered. "I need some way to remove that rocky obstruction while causing a minimum amount of disturbance. If the occupant happens to be hibernating, it extremely simplifies matters for us if we can reach her without arousing her."

"And here I thought you had no compunctions whatsoever about waking somebody up," he quietly chortled. "Where did I get such a silly idea?"

"I'm really sorry," she honestly admitted. "I was hoping you hadn't nodded off. Since you won't accept my pillow, I hope you'll at least accept my apology."

"If I can solve your little puzzle, you might consider making that pillow offer on some other occasion," he suggested.

"I just might," she playfully replied, smiling invisibly. "Have productive dreams. Good night, Colin."

"Good night, Eleanor," he hoarsely answered. She realized that she could hear him rolling back over as he switched off. She squeezed her pillow and wondered if his would really be worth the trade. She was surprised to find herself thinking in such adventurous terms, especially about somebody to whom she had only just been introduced. She had to remind herself that she was fatigued and that she could not afford to let the danger of their situation induce her into making desperate decisions. She and Colin both deserved better.

Her dreams were inhabited only by strangely lit statues. In them, she seemed to be engaged in attempting to understand something about these stationary subjects. But the elements of the dreams were too disjointed for her to make any sense of them when she awoke. She was startled into wakefulness, although she was not immediately able to tell by what. She discovered with disappointment that she had neglected to set the alarm on the clock in her quarters as she realized at the same time that she had actually slept for a full eight hours.

Gathering her wits she discerned the sound of commotion in the corridor just outside her quarters. This, she rightly reasoned, was what had awakened her. But she wondered why everybody would be so busy in the outermost extremities of the ship. There were no critical systems whatsoever in the residential section of the spacecraft. Correctly leaping to the unacceptable conclusion, she figured out that these researchers were preparing to disembark. Evidently, and without her recommendation, Director Esperanza had already started sending shuttles down to the surface.

She doubted that she would be able to employ courtesy with him over the intercom, so she bathed and dressed as quickly as she possibly could. Brusquely sidestepping the corridor's exceptionally energetic traffic, she made her way directly to the bridge. Barely restraining her outrage, she located Emilio and purposefully approached him.

"Please tell me you're not already sending people to the surface," she tensely said.

"Whatever remains of the infestation has now been isolated, thanks to you and your team," Emilio easily answered. "The wreckage is on the other side of the rock ridge from that position. We used remotes to set up protective perimeters before we sent anyone in, just in case. But you must understand that until moments ago we couldn't even establish our legal claim to this site. As I'm sure you know; it takes company feet on the ground for that. I'd be a useless director if I got you to accept this assignment and then let someone steal it out from under us."

"If that Alien Queen is in hibernation, it could represent a unique and unprecedented advantage," she responded with quiet force. "But we have no way of estimating just how sensitive to vibrations she might be. If she's awake and waiting for us when we open her burrow, it will completely change the dynamic of this operation. It could in fact completely compromise our capacity for capturing a surviving specimen. I'm recommending that you reconsider."

"I waited until the wreckage was downwind of the ridge, just in case she could smell us coming," Emilio defensively countered. "And I'm making all the researchers walk quite a considerable distance from the landing site. I won't bring in any of the big machinery to start extracting the sections of the ship until you've completed your capture. I understand your concerns. I even appreciate how circumspect you're being regarding the details; but I have a responsibility here as well, and I simply cannot allow yours to supercede mine."

_Even though yours deals exclusively with company profits and my only concern has to do with the survival of our species?_

She managed not to say it aloud, but she dearly wanted to; and after giving careful consideration to rephrasing her sentiment, she finally said instead, "I am only concerned with keeping everyone alive. That includes you. Be sure you don't let your responsibility supercede your survival. The thing that got loose on the Nostromo left only one survivor. The thing that got loose at Hadley's Hope left only one survivor. The thing that got loose on the Sulaco left only one survivor among the non-Artificial Marines. And if one of those things gets loose on this ship, don't count on being the only one left alive; because I will make sure this ship self-destructs if it's the last thing I do. If the only way to contain this thing is by killing everybody aboard, that is what my responsibility will require."

Eleanor was uncomfortably aware of how completely quiet it had suddenly become on the bridge as Director Esperanza paused before ultimately answering, "Of course."

Even though there was nothing overt in the director's tone or expression to suggest it, she could not help feeling as if she were being patronized. Emilio's true priorities were not being represented. Without any sensor array to substantiate her suspicions, she was just as certain of his deception as she was of the existence of the derelict and the hidden hazard on the planetoid below. And she was beginning to wonder which was actually the more dangerous.

As she disengaged from her distressing dialogue with the director, Colin caught her attention. He was working at a console in an alcove of the control room. His gesture was that of someone with something exciting to share, not that of a colleague trying to rescue her from a difficult confrontation. But she was relieved anyway to find him redirecting her away from Emilio, and she was overjoyed at an opportunity to interact yet again with the endearing engineer. She discovered with surprise that she had to concentrate in order to approach him like a professional, and not as someone toward whom she had an intimate interest.

"So, you're a morning person," she smilingly said, unable to resist the temptation to make the jest. "I'll have to remember that."

"You've no idea," he teasingly responded, lowering his voice and shaking his head. "I hope you won't be too disappointed to discover that I really wanted to talk to you about your engineering challenge though. I've been studying our scans and I have an idea."

"Impress me," she said.

"And here I was hoping I already had," he jokingly rejoined.

"I don't recall saying you could quit," she lightheartedly replied, shaking her head at him.

"Very well, I guess it's back to business then," he pouted, playing up the pretense of disappointment. Indicating a screen where he had some scans from the probe displayed, he said, "We need to get a sample of the resin that's holding these rocks together. If only the resin is strong enough, there's a chance we could dissolve what's spread around the opening's perimeter, insert an expandable spine through a hole drilled in the center, and lift the entire obstruction out as a single piece."

"I'll bet you'd have made one heck of a safecracker," she offhandedly observed. "So we need to send the probe back down?"

"Stanford is already on it," he replied. "He's down in Telemetry Control. Considering that we don't want to wake the occupant, and it's an exceptionally delicate operation, he didn't want to be distracted by all the commotion up here."

"That was probably a wise decision," she said. Glancing all around, she then asked "But it doesn't bother you?"

"I seem to have this inborn ability to tune out everybody and everything around me," he answered. He then amusingly added, "It might be why I never managed to marry."

She laughed at his levity, asking, "Do you suppose we'd disturb Stanford if we went down there?"

"We can always try," he curiously countered. "You are however assuming that he's not already as disturbed as the rest of us, are you not?"

"Calling you a morning person may have been a serious underestimation," she said as he led them both in the suggested direction.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he grinningly agreed, looking back over his shoulder to wink at her.

Telemetry Control was aptly titled. The cavernous compartment was crammed full of some of the most advanced technology Eleanor had ever seen. It was instantly apparent to her that Weyland-Yutani had spared absolutely no expense in equipping the ship that was supposed to secure the most dangerous site in all of explored space. She had quite consciously been avoiding the exobiology lab, although Director Esperanza had seemed eager to acquaint her with her workspace; however, she knew she was only delaying the inevitable. Other less senior professionals in her field were already working with the inert specimens that had been recovered from the wreckage of the derelict. Because she had accepted responsibility for capturing the other Alien Queen, if that proved to be possible, it was her sole assignment.

Responding to the sound of their entrance, Stanford spoke over his shoulder saying, "I was able to obtain a sample. The probe is on its way back to the ship right now. It'll be going to the chemists as soon as it's brought aboard. Eleanor, we might want to take the opportunity to visit your lab and see if it's already equipped to contain a live specimen."

It did not escape Eleanor's attention that Stanford seemed to somehow be aware of the fact that she had yet to report to her own lab. When considering how comfortable he obviously was with the director, it made her wonder if he was fast-tracked on his way up through the company. Somehow he had almost immediately managed to embed himself in an association between two of the most senior researchers in the project, almost as if that alliance had been anticipated. She told herself that she needed to remember to ask Colin just how Stanford had been selected to assist them. She wanted to know if Emilio had been involved in making that recommendation.

It left her feeling extremely troubled to think that their triumvirate might have already been infiltrated by somebody whose motives could not truly be trusted.

Nevertheless, at least for the foreseeable future, his participation was of paramount importance. The first incursion into the cave needed to be accomplished with a probe. It was not the kind of industry she preferred to apportion to someone whose motives were not necessarily known; but at this point, even if there was somebody more qualified, she would still be running the risk of seeming to reward Stanford's dedication with dismissal. _If this represents some kind of corporate trap, it's incredibly well conceived._

"I suppose that would be the most expeditious use of our time right now," she finally answered when it became clear that both men were expecting a response. "You've both seen the specimens through the probe's scanners, so I suppose you can both be trusted not to lose it in the lab."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence!" Colin laughed as he began moving towards the doorway through which they had entered.

"Just for the sake of argument," Stanford teasingly asked, "what would happen if we were to lose it in the lab?"

"That's why God gave me assistants," Eleanor mischievously chortled. "Biology can be a messy business. But when you're a senior researcher, sanitation is a simple matter of delegation."

"And I am sure your assistants are all unspeakably appreciative your attitude," Colin finally found the breath to amusingly observe.

"They always say they are," Eleanor answered in a singsong voice as she moved to the front of the group, leading the way around a corner and gesturing towards her lab.

"I think that's their job," Stanford said.

"You don't think they really mean it?" Eleanor affectedly demanded, feigning shock.

Before anyone could phrase an answer, they realized that they were walking beside an elongated window that looked into the exobiology lab. The sight of all the splayed out specimens brought them to a sudden stop and silenced all conversation. The immediacy of the menace was abruptly brought home. In the harsh light of their clinical situation, the remains were abhorrent in the extreme.

"What happens if I'm actually the one who loses it in the lab," Eleanor asked, barely breathing.

"Just warn us first so we can all freak out together," Coin absently responded.

At the end of the lab by which they were standing were several spread specimens of the spider-like form of the alien. To their right, toward the center of the elongated lab and its entrance, were examples of the drones or workers. Some of the fossilized remains of the derelict's crewmembers were being studied there as well. At the extreme other end was all that could be recovered of the Alien Queen's carcass. That particular trophy was in deplorable condition. To Eleanor, its state of decomposition seemed to somehow only make it that much more horrible.

As one of the scientists looked up at her through the faceplate of a biohazard mask, she recognized the most senior of her assistants. Shedding her protective headgear, the woman, Suki Suzuki, motioned them towards the doorway and indicated that it was safe for them to go in. They cautiously complied.

As the trio timidly entered, Eleanor made the inquiry that was foremost on the minds of her two companions, asking, "Why are wearing biohazard suits if you don't really need them?"

"Looking at these monstrosities through glass is marginally more manageable," Suki honestly admitted.

"Okay," Eleanor answered, not knowing how else to address such openness as she glanced anxiously around. But she finally found the professional poise to also ask, "Have you confirmed what the Sulaco said concerning the colonists' findings about the acid?"

"Yes, it oxidizes at death," Suki said. "And we verified the lack of all cellular activity."

"Good," Eleanor replied, trying to sound reassured. "Anything else?"

"Most of the samples were frozen and fossilized, then scorched and irradiated, and then left for a century," Suki illustratively answered. "This is true for the Alien Queen, the drones, and all the members of the derelict's crew. As a consequence, our scans haven't been particularly revealing. So far we've only succeeded in making some determinations about structure and internal anatomy. But we're about to begin taking cross-sections, so we may be on the verge of some breakthroughs with these older samples. We do have a few of the spider-like forms that we believe were still viable at the time of the Nostromo's encounter. We hope to extract an embryo from one of them, but I cannot account for the condition of anything we recover. All I know is that the only way we'll ever sequence any of their genetics is with a comparatively uncontaminated specimen. Prolonged exposure to radiation has clearly wrought havoc with the cellular structures of every specimen I've examined."

As carefully as she could, Eleanor hesitantly asked, "In your estimation, are we truly equipped to incarcerate an Alien Queen?"

Suki smiled at her superior's reticence and then replied, "Not in here. But there's a specially built bay beyond the bulkhead of the back wall, completely compartmentalized. If she tried to use her acid to escape, it would expose the first encapsulating shell to the vacuum of space. The acid would simply be sucked away into space and she would find herself in an absolutely airless environment; at least, until we sealed off and pressurized the next in the series of shells. And there are several successive shells. Since we know they're able to learn, we'd probably only have to do this once or twice before she got the message."

"But what if she's just ridiculously stupid and doesn't relent?" Eleanor asked before either of her companions could pose the question.

"The bay is surrounded by space," Suki soberly responded. "We simply jettison that compartment."

"Discard such a specimen?" Eleanor affectedly asked, pretending surprise.

"All we really need is a sample of her tissue," Suki stated very matter-of-factly. "But of course, her ovipositor would be the real trophy."

Not really wanting to get involved in such a scientific discussion in front of Colin and Stanford, Eleanor changed the subject by asking, "So, have you managed to answer any of the biggest questions?"

"My two biggest questions can't be answered by anything in this lab," Suki said with complete candor.

"And those are?" Stanford entered the conversation by asking.

"There were thousands of the spider-like forms of the alien, but only a few hundred were still in their egg sacks," Suki observed. "Either they emerge and aggressively seek a host when they're unable to hibernate anymore or there were a lot more than eighteen crewmembers on the derelict. In that case, there's no way of knowing how many remain unaccounted for. Let's just hope you're not going to open that aperture on an alien army. We're not that desperate for live specimens."

"You said you had two questions," Colin interjected, steering the conversation away from such unsolicited speculation. "What was the other?"

"I'd like to know why the military so easily abandoned this prime piece of real estate and the exceptional opportunity it represented," Suki replied. "Were they so unspeakably disappointed when their probes didn't discover any viable alien organisms that they then chose to discard the derelict and all the revolutionary breakthroughs its technology could represent?"

"Being a telemetry specialist, I occasionally intercept sensitive information," Stanford almost inaudibly said, prefacing his diffusion of the facts she had tempted him to expose.

"What have you heard?" Suki conspiratorially whispered.

"Their sole interest here was apparently the alien," he cautiously answered. "Having determined, or so they believed, the absence of any surviving example, they've returned to some plan they were apparently already pursuing. I'm sorry but I don't know what that relates to, except that it involves a vessel called the Auriga. I'm not sure if I got the name right though, since I couldn't find any registry for such a ship. But whatever they're doing clearly hasn't been going very well. That much at least was quite clear."

"I can't even imagine," said Suki. "To the best of my knowledge this is the only place in all of explored space where such a specimen could possibly have been recovered."

"I completely concur," Eleanor agreed. "A couple regrettably managed to stow away aboard the Sulaco, but after it crashed on Fury that infestation was eliminated."

"Has anyone here eaten anything recently?" Colin abruptly asked. "I awoke with an epiphany and skipped breakfast to get right to work on it. But I'm not going to be able to institute my scheme without some sustenance. We can't do very much until we have the results of the chemical analysis."

"Let's make sure our chemistry technician knows where to find us and get down to the mess hall. Someone," said Stanford as he jokingly jostled Colin, "got me out of bed to take our probe back down to the planetoid."

Director Esperanza joined them not very long after they sat down and began eating. He pulled a chair over for the purpose. Eleanor noted that he sat down next to Stanford.

"How's it going," he amiably inquired, aiming his question at her.

"We're waiting for Chemistry to finish their analysis of the resin and tell us if they've devised a way to dissolve it," Eleanor answered. She was somewhat startled that there were no indications of residual tension from their confrontation on the bridge. Since she doubted that he had indeed dismissed the incident, she could only surmise that he was exceptionally skilled at disguising his true emotions. This was a disquieting discovery.

Whether Emilio had somehow anticipated the arrival of the report and wanted to be present or it was a completely unplanned coincidence, she could not hope to determine; but the analysis and recommendation from Chemistry came through only scant seconds after his intriguingly timely arrival.

After regarding the report, Eleanor announced, "Since they already suspected that it was organic, they were able to break the compound down pretty quickly despite it having some highly unusual properties. It took one of their metallurgists to finally figure a way to dissolve it. Right now they're synthesizing a corrosive spray. It should be ready in about an hour."

"Colin and I talked extensively about his plan," Emilio casually said. "Once the spray is applied to the rocks around the border of the blockage, the probe might be able to pull it straight up out of the entrance. But the place where the probe has to pierce it and send through its expanding spike may not be exactly in the middle. If our purpose is to prevent vibration, we need it to come out clean. Someone is going to have to guide the edges as it comes out. To take care of that, I've assembled a team of Artificials. They are stronger, faster, and not at risk of being used as hosts. They will have energy weapons with which to defend themselves. They'll also make sure that our researchers are all afforded ample time to evacuate if an army of aliens comes pouring out of that pit. Since we've got time, would you like to meet them?"

In the interest of not continuing to appear adversarial, Eleanor fought the temptation to ask if the Artificials had indeed volunteered for the assignment and instead answered, "Absolutely. Let's go meet them."

Emilio led the team to the nearest of the massive spaceship's landing ports. Due to the rotation of scientists to the surface, the bay was bustling. But in one assembly area there was a craft and crew that seemed dissimilar to the rest. Emilio led them that way.

Naming first Eleanor, Colin, Stanford, and Suki; the director then turned towards the assembled Artificials and said, "This is Poole, Deacon, Terrance, Sangria, Vladimir, Duff, Lentz, and Chalice. They'll help the probe carefully extract the rock obstruction, and then they'll keep the area secured while it makes its reconnaissance and hopefully carries out a capture."

"What? No top-secret designation for a team with so important an assignment," Suki jokingly asked.

"I suggested that we call ourselves the Church Mice, but it clearly didn't go over very well," Deacon amiably admitted.

"Church mice don't carry energy weapons," Sangria matter-of-factly stated.

Eleanor found it interesting that there were two female models among the Artificials, considering that they were anticipating the prospect of combat. But she also understood that they would get along at least as well as the most highly trained female Marines. She elected not to incur criticism by questioning the decision.

Instead, she said, "I hope you realize that your inability to serve as hosts only makes you more expendable to any aliens you encounter. Don't take any chances."

"Thanks," Poole replied. "We've all been fully briefed but it still makes more sense to send us. It increases both the odds of success and of the survival of the assisting team."

To Eleanor his response certainly made it sound as if the group's cooperation had in no way been coerced. And their situation unfortunately did not allow for the acquisition of any additional assurances. She merely nodded once in mock agreement; saddened that, like at least one other member of the group, she found it necessary to misrepresent how she truly felt. It bothered her to be emulating Emilio.

The director explained that a solution for dissolving the resin was being synthesized and that the effort would be underway within the hour. Because entry into the remains of the planetoid's atmosphere would not be as problematic for the probe, it seemed wisest to the Artificials to go ahead and start their descent to the surface. In the absence of any dissenting opinions, they politely took their leave and swiftly disappeared into their ship.

Backing away from the assembly area in compliance with instructions that were also spoken by automation, the organic individuals wordlessly watched as the spaceship that contained their constructed counterparts sped from the Centaur and dropped toward the ominous orb below. It seemed suddenly insubstantial as it entered the atmosphere, as if it were an ember that would simply disappear when its flame was extinguished. Eleanor found that she had to turn away from the unsettling impression, thus continuing with her clandestine countenance. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to be honest with anyone around her when she felt in her heart that they were all in the midst of making an immense mistake.

"The people in Space Technologies are adapting our probe to spray the solvent, so that's where the chemists will have it sent. We could go wait there," Stanford suggested.

"Excellent idea," Emilio approvingly replied.

"As much as I'd like to hang out and see what happens, I should be getting back to the exobiology lab," Suki remorsefully said. "Tan Kolinsky, our resident genetics expert, is still hoping we'll be able to extract useful samples from some of the remains."

"We'll keep you advised," Eleanor consolingly said.

As the rest of the team turned and let Stanford lead the way, Suki split off and went in a different direction, momentarily reminding Eleanor of the missing-man formation she had recently seen at an air show on Earth. Considering how many months of hypersleep she had actually experienced between, she decided that it was not nearly as recent as it seemed. _So many trusted perceptions are in reality completely prejudiced_.

Having never seen it close at hand, the probe was far more impressive than she had imagined; not just in terms of its technology, but also the scale of its substantial size.

"Are you certain you will be able to get it through the aperture after it's opened?" she asked, turning to Stanford.

"No problem," he confidently countered.

"How are you going to capture the Alien Queen?" Emilio asked.

"Our plan is pretty much the same whether she's hibernating or not," he indifferently answered. "In fact, the probe has already been equipped with tanks of the cryospray that I'll use to freeze her, and the expandable spine that our ingenious engineer designed."

"Just don't accidentally spray her with the solvent instead," Colin joked, "unless you want to really piss her off."

"Couldn't it be fatal to freeze her like that?" Emilio apprehensively inquired, not quite concealing his concern for the well-being of their boon.

"According to our information, these things can even survive in the vacuum of space for brief durations," Eleanor took the opportunity to answer. "In addition to immobilizing it, the cryospray will create a protective casing around the creature, keeping it secure while it's transported to the Centaur. Reviving it shouldn't present a problem. The only difficulty will be keeping it under control until we're ready to release it in the holding bay. Freezing it is the only solution that addresses all the issues. If you have any other ideas, this is the time to talk about them."

"I can't come up with any alternatives," Emilio admitted.

"Neither could any of the rest of us," said Stanford.

Only a short time later, one of the technicians from the chemistry lab hand delivered the canisters of resin-eating solvent. They were swiftly fastened into place on the probe. After a few short tests to certify that everything was in operational order, the servicemen unplugged the probe from its diagnostic station and transferred control back to Stanford.

"Let's get this show on the road," Emilio instructed. "I am counting on you people to make me proud."

_You're counting on us to pad your profits_.

Eleanor was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her tongue under control. Such a lack of skill concerning something so primary made her wonder how she could expect to command an organism that was not only entirely outside herself but also more fearsome than anything ever encountered by humankind. _But if complete self-control were actually a prerequisite for interfacing with the alien, is there even anyone who could measure up to such a standard_?

The trio followed Stanford as he retreated to his workstation in Telemetry Control. It had seemed reasonable to her to at least allow him to attempt the unattainable from the comfort of his cubicle. She tried to derive reassurance from the overwhelming amount of technology by which they were soon surrounded. Having finally seen the probe up close, she could appreciate how incredibly advanced was the instrumentality by which the Alien Queen would soon find herself confronted. She reminded herself that science was fully a century more sophisticated than it had been during the previous encounter. She hoped it would be enough.

The screens soon displayed the surrealistic panorama of planetfall as the probe fell into the planetoid's atmosphere. As it descended toward the ridge, they could all see that the Artificials were already in position around the obstruction. Four members of the team stood ready to help direct the blockage up and out of the entrance. The others had taken up supporting positions behind and slightly to the sides of their exposed associates, with their energy weapons already leveled at the area of operation.

Stanford maneuvered the probe into position and started systematically spraying the solvent all around the edge of the obstruction. It was necessary to repeat the application, making several circuits around the circumference. Finally, he was satisfied that the resin had been removed from the outer edges of each boulder that held the blockage in place.

He then cautiously located the approximate middle of the stone stopper, selecting a place between the boulders to dissolve a tiny opening for the probe's expanding spine. It was mercilessly slow going, since he only wanted to insert enough of the solvent to open an adequate conduit for the armature but not enough to result in any resonating splatters in the passageway beyond. At last, he was able to successfully insert the probe's spindle into the puncture. The Artificials stepped forward to assist with the extraction.

After expanding the backstop at the end of the probe's inserted spire, as carefully as he could, Stanford started pulling the rock plug up out of the channel's entrance. Artificial hands guided the amalgamated obstruction, keeping it from scraping against the sides of the shaft. Emilio reached out and switched one of the screens to show the view from the shuttle, which the Artificials had succeeded in silently situating a short distance from the site.

As the blackness beneath the obstruction became visible, Eleanor clinched her jaw so tightly that she almost injured herself. However, nothing nightmarish erupted from the ominous shadows. Consequently, Stanford was afforded enough time to quietly discard the capstone some distance away. The Artificials fell back and took up positions around the entrance, warily watching down the burnished barrels of their raised weapons.

"This is why I make the big bucks," Stanford acerbically said as he gently eased the probe in the direction of the darkness.

"Just take it nice and easy," Eleanor encouragingly instructed, not even noticing that she had spoken these words through clinched teeth in very much the same manner as a veteran ventriloquist.

As the tunnel stretched obscurely into the distance, Stanford said, "Ambient radar is not going to be enough, and the information we have insists that these things don't show up at all with infra red. I'm going to try very low levels of ultraviolet and hope that doesn't give us away. Assuming we still have the advantage of surprise, I'd sure hate to waste it; but it takes next to nothing for the probe to scan its surroundings."

The display on the screen brightened appreciably. The contours of the tunnel could now be seen. It was an expansive conduit, one that would easily accommodate an Alien Queen. And it was deceptively deep.

"Do you think this goes down far enough that she might've been protected from the radiation?" Emilio asked, barely suppressing his excitement.

"We won't know for sure until we find the level of the lair," Stanford distractedly said.

After a number of nerve-racking turns, they finally recognized the telltale bend at the bottom of the tunnel and they knew that they were on the very outskirts of their objective. Leveling out, the probe almost immediately encountered the kinds of artificial formations, completely composed of secreted resin, which announced the entrance to the nest.

"Come into my parlor," Stanford hesitantly said.

"What are those things scattered across the cave floor?" Emilio abruptly asked. But as Stanford in response increased the intensity of the scans, the director then answered his own question, saying, "They're face-huggers."

It had been awhile since Eleanor encountered the colloquialism, inspired by a rather disgustingly graphic description of the alien's attack strategy. Because Emilio noticed her sidelong look of disapproval, she patiently explained, "What we're seeing is the arachnid stage of the xenomorphic parasitoid."

"Then in your expert opinion," countered the director, not amused, "why exactly are they all over the floor?"

As the probe continued to move forwards, it was apparent that the egg sacks within the range of its scanners had all been opened. Their previous occupants were crumpled grotesquely on the ground. The nightmarish forms were fossilized. In fact, it looked as if they had been in that solidified condition for just as long as the crew of the derelict.

Speaking to Eleanor, Colin speculated, "I guess you were right. They automatically hatch and hunt for a host if they're near death."

"So that guy from the Nostromo stumbled into a nest that was probably about to die. And if they'd only come a little later, he might've lived and they might've recovered some remains that could still have yielded a viable DNA sample?" Stanford asked, shaking his head.

"But what about the reactive field he described?" the director demanded.

"This is only theoretical," Eleanor softly responded. "It might be that they only set up such a field when they're in hibernation. While none was encountered at Hadley's Hope, it's also true that the eggs were freshly laid. Had the Sulaco come later, they might very well have found such fields. But the presence of the live adults might have played a part as well. I think we can surmise that there are no survivors down here."

"What about the Alien Queen?" Emilio asked, unmistakably disappointed.

"I'll be screamingly screwed, I think I just found her," Stanford announced, switching the probe to normal illumination.

Glistening in the condensation of centuries, she stood in the center of the chamber like a statue of carved onyx. Not only was her ovipositor still attached, but it looked as if she had actually died while in the midst of giving birth.

Indicating one of the digital gauges, Emilio plaintively protested, "But there's hardly any radiation down here! Why are they all dead?"

"These weren't killed by radiation," Stanford said, restating the obvious. "It looks like they've been dead a lot longer than that."

"Life support," Colin mysteriously mused aloud, his voice scarcely a whisper.

"What?" Emilio impatiently asked.

"She didn't seal off the tunnel and come down here in order to hide," Colin continued enigmatically.

"We're not following you," Eleanor admitted. "What have figured out?"

"Something's been bothering me ever since I saw those orbital photos taken by the Sulaco," Colin replied, visibly trying to collect his thoughts. "The place where the derelict came down didn't have the aspect of a crash site. The crew might've already been dead, but their incredibly advanced ship simply landed itself. Without understanding what they were, or that they'd killed the crew, it might've been able to tell that there was something still alive onboard. For as long as it could, it maintained life support. When it finally failed, the Alien Queen must've realized that her hive was in an insufferable situation. She sent her successor out to establish a second nest somewhere else. But the atmosphere was inadequate, so she tried to use depth to compensate for the lack of pressure. She even sealed the passageway in an attempt to control her underground environment. However, it wasn't enough."

"So we discovered a second site only to finally find that even it is perfectly useless?" Emilio incredulously asked.

"I wouldn't say that," Eleanor encouragingly countered. "The Alien Queen is entirely intact, along with her ovipositor. In fact, none of these specimens have been ripped apart and irradiated like their counterparts topside. We might get some very valuable insights from examining them. We might even get some viable genetic samples."

"Then I suppose I'd better have the Artificials started bringing them aboard," Emilio said, voicing his assumption.

"No!" Eleanor unintentionally exclaimed.

"What? Why the hell not?" demanded the director, darkening.

Gathering herself, Eleanor answered, "I have to go down there. We've never found a complete nest before. Taking scans just simply isn't enough. There are things that can be learned only by direct observation. As much as I hate to say it, I have to go inspect it."

"You had better let me finish my sweep and make sure there really isn't any cellular activity at all," Stanford suggested.

"Please do," Eleanor replied, sighing.

"I need to get down there and be on hand to supervise the extraction of the consoles from the derelict anyway," Colin conversationally said, turning and smiling at Eleanor. He then conspiratorially asked, "Do you think you could use an engineer's perspective down there in that hellhole?"

"You're a prince," she replied, very evidently comforted by his offer.

"I can stay on station with the probe," Stanford suggested. "Between the three of us, maybe we'll make this pay off in a big way yet."

Eleanor noticed how Emilio appreciably brightened at the possibility of a payoff. He hovered over Stanford's shoulder while the telemetry expert carefully certified the utterly deceased condition of every parasitoid in the pit, arachnid or otherwise.

The director had the Artificials stand by so they could escort the incursion and then remove the most promising specimens; the selection of which would, of course, be up to Eleanor. Once Stanford had completed his sweep with the probe and was assured of the safety of the site, she and Colin exited Telemetry Control together. In the interim, no one could help noticing how quiet she had become. Her consort wisely waited until they were out in the corridor before he tried to initiate any kind of discussion.

"I know the place sure looks scary on the screen," he understandingly said. "But you saw the results of the scans. Those things have all been dead for centuries, maybe even millennia. If you want to pass the examination of the remains to Suki for awhile after that, I'm sure I could use your help at the derelict. I still believe that spacecraft represents our greatest opportunity for discovery. I think it's reasonable to expect that we will eventually encounter its architects; so, since you are the senior exobiologist, I also believe that your primary responsibility should be to help us prepare for that."

"LV-426 is no longer beyond the outer rim," Eleanor observed. "The derelict was first discovered a hundred and fifty years ago. In all that time and despite the way humankind has spread itself across space, we've had no contact with its creators. Is it unreasonable to think they may have been driven into extinction by the very catastrophe with which we continue to flirt?"

"Since we haven't even found any trace of their civilization, I'd have to conclude that we simply haven't crossed into their region of space," Colin countered. "That ship may've been way off course. I suppose it could've even been from another galaxy. And if there's an intergalactic drive to be recovered here, I cannot overstate the importance of this site. Nor can I overstate how honored we should feel to be representing our race in so critical a project."

"You sound like you're starting to drift away from the importance of the navigational system," Eleanor disapprovingly observed, reminding him of their earlier discussion. "I'd like to think the derelict and the parasitoids were both from some distant galaxy, since it would limit the contamination of the Milky Way to this solitary site. But I do not think they were off course. And I'm basing that on what you said in Telemetry Control. The derelict made a deliberate landing. It could just as easily have taken them home instead, unless they realized what was happening to them and had only enough time to reprogram their destination. Consider that the ship sat down on an uninhabitable planetoid orbiting a gas giant in an unremarkable solar system. They didn't want to be rescued. They were trying to quarantine the thing that killed them."

"If that's the case, then why didn't they just destroy their ship?" he carefully inquired.

"I can't conceive of how such a thing should be possible, but it seems that their ship was actually some kind of organism," she answered. "Perhaps they could not cause it to destroy itself, so their only option was to swiftly scuttle it and set up the warning beacon."

"What if you're right? Where does that leave us? Don't you think we should still try to discover everything we can about what happened here?" he asked as they arrived at the hatchway to the shuttle bay.

"That depends on how the information is going to be used," she carefully answered. "If we're going to use the navigational data to avoid any regions of space were we might encounter the parasitoid, then I would agree. But if we're going to use it to go looking for an organism that was able to easily overcome the members of a race whose knowledge of genetics is approximately incomprehensible, then the answer is definitely not."

Entering the shuttle, which had already been programmed by a flight coordinator to take them to the tunnel's opening, Colin waited until they were securely sealed inside to say, "I know Director Esperanza is trying to turn a profit on this place, but he is just doing his job. I appreciate just how suicidal it would be for us to try to exploit these parasitoids, but any possibility of that happening has all but been eliminated at this point. The way to make sure it remains a dead subject is by focusing on the advancements we could make by understanding the alien ship's systems. I know you're just concerned about the threat these things could represent but, honestly, it's like you're suspecting something insidious from the same administration that gave us this opportunity. I'm not sure I can concur with you there."

"It was not by chance that the Nostromo picked up the alien transmission. In fact, it'd already been decoded before they were even rerouted toward LV-426," Eleanor fearfully revealed. "The company wanted it checked out cheaply. They even replaced the science officer with a reprogrammed Artificial. This android was supposed to ensure the return of the organism, as in all other considerations suspended and crew expendable."

"What?" Colin exclaimed, outraged. "I just finished reviewing all the information they gave us regarding what happened here! There was nothing about any of this! How come you know all this?"

"I'm the great-granddaughter of Ellen Ripley, the sole survivor of the Nostromo," she reluctantly admitted. "I litigiously went after the transcripts of her hearing and, because of being a direct descendent, I succeeded. Perhaps now in the utter absence of their actual objective they will accept it as a substitute but, make no mistake, the company has never been interested in the derelict. And neither now apparently is the military. I think it's clear why. We examined all the wreckage. Did you see anything even remotely reminiscent of a propulsion system?"

"No, I can't say I did," he disappointedly replied. "And excuse me for doubling back to the bombshell you just dropped, but is Emilio aware of who you are and all the things you know?"

"I'm starting to feel like I made a deal with the devil," she sadly said, "but we settled out of court. I agreed to conditionally keep quiet about what I'd discovered; but if I were to die under suspicious circumstances, as well they know, a law firm will make sure the facts come out. In exchange for my silence, I have complete job security and automatic assignment to anything the company does relevant to what happened here. And Emilio can't disclose my personal relationship to the project without my consent any more than he can fire me. But there've been some very underhanded dealings behind the scenes for over a century, and the company's agenda here may not be anything like what they are representing. Don't let them fool you."

"Whoa," he simply said. And then, he asked, "So what made you decide to tell me?"

"It was starting to feel like I was being dishonest with you, and I didn't like it. I didn't want to take a chance on it somehow compromising our friendship," she honestly said.

"It won't. I deeply appreciate your decision to be so upfront with me," he said with a smile. "And don't worry. You're secret is safe with me. But I was wondering – do I talk to Director Esperanza about a raise, or could I maybe just have that discussion with you?"

"I'll see what I can do," she teasingly answered, grinning broadly and reassured that she had indeed made the right decision by confiding in him. _Maybe everything's going to work out after all_.

**Chapter 3**

_**Identity Crisis**_

The descent to the barren and forbidding ball of LV-426 was the stuff of nightmares. It seemed to Eleanor that she had finally stopped dreaming about it only just in time for it to actually happen. It was a tragic commentary on how little humanity had accomplished there that it bore no resemblance whatsoever to the partially terraformed planetoid in the photos taken by the Sulaco. It appeared altogether inhospitable and totally devoid of any evidence of human habitation. The carbon footprint had been conclusively eradicated by that most odious of humankind's implements – the thermonuclear maelstrom.

Although she was quite uncomfortably conscious of the geographic coordinates that had once identified Hadley's Hope, the distance to the detonation site suddenly seemed utterly insignificant. The torrent of terrifying force that flung the defenseless derelict from the rock ridge had devastatingly struck the upslope before doing so. She speculated that the scorched surface would doubtlessly not have seemed more decimated if it had been struck by a solar flare instead.

Having seen just how perilously precipitous were some of the sections of the tunnel, Eleanor was wondering how she and Colin would be expected to accomplish their transit into the wickedest of warrens. But as they circled around to land, she could see that the Artificials had been preparing to help them. They had already lowered lines into the hole. The probe was standing by to assist and could even provide transportation in a pinch. _Nothing like a guided tour directly into the devil's den_.

Donning their biohazard suits and disembarking from the comparative security of the shuttle, they manufactured as much courage as they possibly could and doggedly strode out to muster with the elements of their artificial escort. Eleanor, in particular, was hoping that not even Stanford, watching by remote, would be able to estimate how much veneer there was to their valor. She felt like anything except an intrepid explorer. The face of her companion was inscrutable however as she guardedly glanced through the corner of her faceplate at Colin. She found that she derived a certain measure of encouragement from his determined demeanor. She responded by adopting the deportment of somebody who was about to undergo a surgical procedure – resigned to the knowledge that there would be some traumatic moments but also expecting to sleep through the worst of it. _I wonder how Colin would feel if he knew I was casting him as my anesthesiologist_.

With a cheerfulness that was probably only possible for Artificials in such a situation, the eight engineered individuals pleasantly approached the pair of senior researchers. It took Poole mere moments to explain the rappelling procedure with which they were to all descend into the darkling depths, while also reassuring them of ongoing observation and assistance by the other members of the group. Having never before undertaken such an endeavor, Eleanor and Colin tried to prepare themselves for the plummet into the pit.

As they accomplished the descent, the two researchers were essentially surrounded by eight Artificials. Possessing perceptions, strength, speed, and reflexes which were far superior to that of humans, Poole and his team could have kept them from falling to their deaths even if Colin and Eleanor had both deliberately let go of the lines simultaneously. With improbable impunity they slipped into the depths of the planetoid.

Arriving at the entrance to the nest, they took time to secure the equipment they had used during the descent. Having spent that entire time trying to maintain her composure, it now occurred to Eleanor to wonder how they could be extracted. She remembered that it was possible for them to ride the probe, as it swept past them and aimed its impressive illumination into the horrific chamber that stretched before them.

As she considered one of her previous conversations with Colin, the one where they had speculated about the possibly engineered origin of the alien, she found that she had to question the kind of mental illness or drug overdose that would result in such revolting visions. Gazing upon the grotesquely disgorged and terrifying features that assaulted her eyes, she found that she had to forcefully suppress her flight instinct. It would have been as embarrassing as it would have been useless to turn and attempt to scramble back up the sheer sides of rocky conduit. She waited until everyone else started moving forward; and then, at a somewhat retarded rate, she diffidently followed.

Almost at once, she regretted having to wear a helmet. Some of the strands of resin looked almost like intestines. Knowing only too well the carnage that could be caused by the kind of creature responsible, it seemed to her almost like a cautionary advertisement. Unbidden, images of the ruptured chest cavities of the derelict's crewmembers formed in her mind. She shut her eyes and swallowed hard, willing the contents of her stomach not to return to the waking world. She wanted to try and make some kind of joke about being in the bowels of the earth, but she was afraid of what might really happen if she dared to open her mouth.

_Somehow, I have to find a way to disconnect myself from my revulsion and achieve an impassive state of scientific observation_.

"Poole, would you see if we can somehow split open one of these eggs sacks?" she asked.

As much as she did not intend to provide Director Esperanza with any viable genetic material, she knew he was watching and that she was expected to make an attempt. But she also needed to decisively demonstrate to her diminishing equanimity that there were no unknowns, that there was now nothing except solidified tissue inside the relinquished receptacles, that they were in fact as lifeless as their previous residents.

It took some experimentation before they were able to determine which piece of the equipment on hand was best suited to slice through the fossilized ellipses. Since the top of the sack was already open and its uppermost section was empty, they at least had an advantageous situation for starting the cut. But just as she expected, the base turned out to be as completely congealed as everything else in the enclosure. Their forcefully made cross-section exposed nothing at all except fossilized tissue, and the discovery helped to reinforce her resolve.

Even with the assurance of additional scanner sweeps, it was very difficult for her to force herself to approach the Alien Queen. She had to keep reminding herself that Ellen Ripley, her great-grandmother, had managed to defeat one such monster in mechanized combat. But understanding the Alien Queen's perspective was essential, so she needed to view the nest from that position. And she needed to do so with the most malevolent of matriarchs still situated at its center.

Much to the discontent of the director, but Eleanor's silent elation, the Alien Queen's ovipositor turned out to also be devoid of any cellular activity. It would take a very careful cross-sectioning to certify the absence of anything suitable for genetic sampling. Eleanor considered asking the Artificials to go ahead and perform the procedure, since she knew that the sample could be compromised by simple exposure. But there was the chance of Emilio realizing what she was trying to do, countermanding her instructions, and placing strict restrictions on her further participation in the project. He could still choose to violate the rules of their settlement if he believed the benefits to the company would be worth it.

After spending the next few hours recording many measurements and observations with her dicta-screen, she finally informed the Artificials that they could begin to prepare the selected samples for transport to the Centaur. Although he had given little indication of being ill at ease, Colin definitely looked relieved by her announcement. The pair made their way to the probe where Poole double-checked the attachment of their tethers. After he was satisfied that they were safely secured, he released them into Stanford's care. It took much less time to accomplish the ascent in this way than it had taken to rappel into the macabre museum. Emerging from the darkling depths, they experienced the strange sensation of finding implausible comfort in the decimated landscape of LV-426.

After uncoupling themselves from the probe, and as it was returning to help with the extraction of the samples, Colin said, "The equipment should just about be in place near the wreckage. I'd really like to have you with me when I see the derelict in person for the first time. Your impressions might be even more important than mine."

"I rather doubt that," she honestly admitted. "But I'm happy to accept your invitation."

Rather than walk all the way around or across the ridge, they climbed back onboard the shuttle and waited for the few moments it took for a flight coordinator on the Centaur to program the little craft for a flight to the worksite. Within minutes, they were skimming over the rocky ridge and heading towards the wreckage of the alien spacecraft. Looking back through the rear portal in the direction from which they had just come, Eleanor was uncomfortably aware that she was experiencing what may have been the last thing ever seen by the crew of that ill-fated ship. It made her even more determined to understand what they had been like while they were alive.

Coming down the other side of the ridge, the scene of devastation was striking. The wreckage of the derelict was spread over square kilometers of the planetoid's forbidding surface. The probe's imaging scanners had somehow made it seem more concentrated and not quite as chaotic. The actual extent of the fragmentation startled both spectators. It was also disturbingly obvious that some of the pieces were of far more substantial size than either of them had realized. In order to conduct a thorough search for any remnants of the derelict's technology, they would have to be able to get to the undersides of these ponderous pieces. There was now machinery at the site that could be employed for such purposes, but relying on it to lift all such obstacles out of the way would be tremendously time-consuming.

Using the shuttle's com system to contact the Centaur, Colin politely said, "Director Esperanza, this is Colin Endicott. As soon as Poole and his team finish with sending up the samples, would you please deploy them to assist us? We could really use their help dealing with all this debris."

"They should join you within the hour," Emilio answered.

As the shuttle touched down, he and Eleanor unfastened their flight harnesses and headed for the hatch. After double-checking their environmental suits, they disembarked. Stepping out of the airlock, they instantly noticed that the terrain on the downwind side of ridge from the shockwave had a different texture. It lacked the crystallized slipperiness of the ridge's other side. It was easier to find safe footing. They hoped this would help them maneuver between the bits of debris which seemed strewn in every direction.

"Wow," Colin anticlimactically observed. "After seeing this through the spectral filters of the probe, now it's like we're looking at it all in black and white."

"Or black and gray," Eleanor agreed. "It's hard to believe anyone ever thought about living here."

"I doubt if that's ever going to happen again now," he somberly responded as he led the way toward a small stack of debris.

After nosing around for awhile beneath one of the smaller mounds of rubbish, they were interrupted by the sound of the approaching Artificials. Their ship landed close by.

Vladimir was the first to emerge. Lentz leapt down directly behind him. Both looked up at Colin and Eleanor at about the same time and then, strangely, they simultaneously paused. Before either researcher could question their weird reaction, Poole appeared in hatchway and jumped down beside them. Looking up, he also came to a sudden stop.

"What's wrong?" Colin finally found the voice to ask.

"It looks like the insides of a disemboweled organism," Terrance answered from his position in the hatchway.

"Yeah," Eleanor uneasily agreed. "It does have that aspect. I guess we were starting to get used to it."

Purposefully striding towards something that was clearly a torn-out section from the side of the ship; Poole turned to his associates and asked, "Do you see what I see?"

"I most certainly do," Sangria responded as she moved to examine the outstretched artifact. "But how can we account for fibers like that in the skin of a spaceship?"

Suddenly understanding that they had no knowledge of the subject being discussed, and almost in unison, Colin and Eleanor asked, "What fibers?"

"That's probably not the best technical description, but they're just similar enough to something with which we are familiar that it cannot be coincidental," Terrance explained. "As Synthetics, our central nervous systems use a kind of conductive material that's very similar to what we're seeing here. It's the artificial equivalent of nerve tissue, only I'm not sure this is artificial."

"Marco Pirelli is the head of the Synthetics Department on the Centaur," said Poole. "I'd strongly suggest that we get him down here to look at this. I'd also recommend that we go see if there's more of this material in the derelict's control room."

The request for the addition to the team was quickly communicated to the Centaur. While they waited for his arrival, they carefully made their way into all that was left of the superstructure of the decimated ship. Arriving within its peculiar confines, the impression of being inside arteries was almost overpowering – much more so that it had been by the surrealistic light of Stanford's remote. Terrance waited outside to receive Marco while all the others went in.

The compartment that contained the control room opened under a domed ceiling. It appeared to be relatively undisturbed, in sharp contrast to the rest of the shattered craft. The nine explorers all quietly crept around the enclosure as they meticulously examined the curious consoles at its outskirts. Its central feature was a raised dais whose function was as open to speculation as the other anonymous instruments situated all around it.

"You didn't find an engine room?" Sangria asked.

"With only one noticeable exception, this equipment represents the only technology we were able to identify," Colin replied. "What we originally believed to be some kind of weapons platform we now think may actually have been a communications device. The crew of the Nostromo found it first, along with an attached operator. It might've been the beacon they homed in on. They were led right to it. But we have no idea what propelled this ship or even what it used as an energy source."

"Because of the orbital photos taken by the Sulaco, we know exactly what this ship looked like before the shockwave hit it," Eleanor added. "We digitally imaged every one of its fragments and, using a computerized simulation, we combined them back together. But it looks like this colossal spacecraft consisted almost entirely of nothing but massive storage compartments and some crew quarters. It apparently landed here under power, but we can find no evidence of the engines with which that landing was accomplished."

"That's just weird," Sangria suspiciously responded.

"We think it's the reason why the military released the site ahead of schedule," Colin volunteered. "When they couldn't solve the mystery, they decided they were just wasting time; but as scientists, we can't let ourselves stop short of anything but understanding."

"The fibers I mentioned before seem to run through the entire mass of this vessel," Poole quietly observed. "Every single place this ship was ripped open, we've seen them exposed. Considering that its compartments look like rib cages and its corridors look like arteries, I have to wonder if this spaceship might be beyond our ability to comprehend."

"Its occupants were humanoid and they used technology," Colin heatedly countered, sounding defensive as with a sweeping gesture he indicated the consoles. "It might take the entire lifetimes of every researcher on the Centaur to understand this, and it certainly won't produce the kind of weapons application that the military would've wanted, but we will get to the bottom of this."

Terrance entered with Marco at that point, and the synthetics expert said, "You have quite the conundrum here. Before I get lost in my own exploration, is there some specific task you'd like me to help you accomplish?"

"As long as it's probably going to take for us to understand what we've found here," Colin replied, "it would be best if we could transport at least these control consoles to the Centaur. Assuming they haven't already been damaged by rolling down the ridge and all the radiation to which they were exposed, I need to be sure we extract them safely. This presents a serious problem since we have no idea how they're connected to the ship."

In response, Marco methodically circulated around the cavernous compartment and carefully examined each of the consoles in question. Looking up from a stooping position beside the last of which, he motioned for Colin and Eleanor to see what he had found.

"The roll down the ridge seems to have broken this connection," he said. "On one of our ships, I would've expected to find fiber-optic cable at such a junction. If I couldn't see that this was coming out of the back of a console, I might've called it spinal tissue. Since we're going to need some way to interface with their technology, I'd recommend that we duplicate the damage seen here. The injury might give us an access for supplying power and it might even make it possible for one of the Synthetics to hook in and communicate with it. But I can see no other way to remove them."

"What about the dais in the middle?" Colin asked.

"It appears to have multiple connection points around its base," Marco replied. "We'll need to laser through each of them as close to the floor as possible to conserve as much of the connective tissue as we can."

Turning to Poole, Eleanor asked, "Do you think there'd be any point in you or one of your team attempting to interface with the connection that's already open."

After aiming a questioning look at Marco, who simply shrugged, Poole finally replied, "Without supplying power, I don't if there'll be any response. But I'm willing to try."

Although disappointment was expected, since the ship certainly seemed dead, they were all let down nevertheless when the attempt was altogether ineffective. Without any other options, but just as carefully as they could, the Artificials used lasers to surgically separate the consoles and the dais from their locations in the control room. By the time they were ready to take all the alien equipment up to the Centaur, night was beginning to fall on the disemboweled derelict. Even the Artificials seemed relieved to be abandoning, however briefly, the bleakness of LV-426.

It had been a very eventful day. With the understandable exception of the Artificials, everyone agreed that they needed a complete sleep-cycle before beginning to work with the commandeered consoles. Suki had been excited to receive the samples from the lair of the Alien Queen and was quite competent to conduct all the required tests without any oversight from her section's senior researcher. But Eleanor contacted Tan Kolinsky to let him know that she would appreciate his appraisal of the recovered consoles.

Colin had originally wondered how Eleanor managed to spend so much time outside her assigned work area. Now that he understood her arrangement with the company, he was simply happy for the opportunity to work together that it coincidentally facilitated.

Despite how frightfully fatigued they both were, the pair lingered in the lounge of the Centaur long after their meals were consumed and their associates had departed to their assigned berths. Comprehending the unspoken desire for privacy, the Artificials headed off to set up and calibrate the necessary testing equipment in the spacious bay that now contained the derelict's consoles.

"How's that pillow holding up?" Colin jokingly asked.

Smiling wanly, Eleanor replied, "It seems like it's been so long since I've seen it that I don't even remember what it looks like."

"You're here for the long haul, aren't you?" he then inquired with accidental intensity, unable to keep from sidestepping into a much more serious subject. It felt like something was happening between them, and he wanted to make certain that she would be around long enough for it to finish developing.

"This is my only assignment in the foreseeable future," she said, grinning generously as she understood what he was really asking. To show her appreciation of his sentiment, she then added, "Not only does this probably represent the single greatest opportunity in human history to actually understand exobiology, but it also nicely compliments my new-found interest in engineering."

After completing their sleep-cycles and in accordance with an arrangement they had already made, the entire team of scientists assembled for another meal before beginning work on the consoles. With such nervous excitement about the discoveries that might be made that day, these normally eloquent people were practically prattling. Tan and Marco arrived with Emilio but, as far as he could tell, these additional researchers did nothing to restore a sense of sobriety. He felt like the straight-man at a party for adrenaline junkies, which was at least in part because he did not share their optimistic expectations. He had already resigned himself to the possibility that their expensive enterprise was about to be proved pointless.

Like children coming downstairs on Christmas morning, the researchers reported to work. Poole and his team of Artificials were waiting, and they had already assembled all the equipment requested by Colin. Everyone's attention was first turned to Tan.

"There are no cellular structures present in the fibers," he announced, leaning back from his equipment. "But that doesn't prove the absence of organic life. I frankly can't tell if this is an organism mimicking a machine or a mechanism approximating an animal. I'm inclined to suggest that we're looking at what happens when such a boundary is blurred. It may've actually started as one and somehow become the other."

"It's not that I don't appreciate your input, but I'm not sure I see how that helps us," Emilio said without inflection. And then, turning to Colin and Marco, he asked, "Have the two of you figured out how to power-up this equipment so it can be tested?"

"As advanced as this technology obviously is," Marco speculated, "we may not have to be overly concerned about its power requirements. It may be able to adapt to anything that's available, provided of course that it's still functional to begin with. I think we should start with the type of power required by the Synthetics. If that doesn't work, we can try to compensate according to the difference in its relative mass and work up from there if we need to. And I'd suggest that we start with the dais."

"Sounds good to me," Colin gratefully agreed as Marco paused and glanced at him for confirmation.

"Okay then," Emilio summarized. "Let's put some juice to this contraption and see if we can make it do something besides sit there."

With a nod from the synthetics expert, Poole wheeled one of the recharging stations used by members his kind into place beside the dais. Using several provided extensions, he then gently attached the leads to fibers in each of the exposed connections. Once he had accomplished this, he activated the charging station. While they awaited a response of any kind, he located a cluster of fibers that were clearly separated from those to which he had connected the power. He then attached an interface lead from somewhere inside his own body to that point.

After several long seconds of inactivity, he looked at Lentz, who was standing close to the recharging station, and said, "Increase the power."

Although the sides of the rectangular dais were seemingly smooth and had revealed no features, lighted strips at irregular intervals appeared and began to glow as the power level slowly increased. The deception of dormancy was swiftly transmuted into luminous animation. Most of the startled spectators took an involuntary step backwards. However, none of the Artificials reacted in this way.

"I think I'm getting something," Poole whispered into the silence that resulted as the organic individuals all held their breath.

It was several more moments before he said, "It's almost incomprehensibly exotic. I can understand almost nothing of the things to which I've now seemingly gained access. Give me another few minutes please."

Some of the bystanders began to shift around nervously as they aimed questioning looks at their companions. It seemed like the suspense of a lifetime was being crammed into what was really nothing more than a short series of seconds. But at last Poole spoke again.

"This is actually no more than an educated guess, but I think I've isolated something that may represent a default value. Since this system is apparently awaiting a command, I may be able to use this routine to boot it up," Poole explain. "Do you want me to try?"

"Yes," Emilio instantly answered. His was the only countenance that still seemed as composed as those of the Artificials.

As Poole dutifully complied, an image began to take shape in the cubic space above the dais. Almost immediately, they recognized it as a star field. But even to the Artificials, the represented section of space was utterly unfamiliar. Glances between the assembled individuals quickly confirmed that the puzzlement was unanimous. Not one person in the room could recognize the constellations.

"We need somebody from stellar cartography in here," Eleanor offered, restating the obvious.

With one fluid motion, Emilio extracted and opened his flip-phone and said, "Get me Jamul Ngutu in stellar cartography."

In an almost unbelievably brief amount of time, Jamul had joined them in the bay. In his hand he carried a laptop, which he unintentionally used one of the derelict's consoles to support. Everyone carefully elected not to comment on his choice of computer stands. As it pulled up its programs, he peered at the projected image. Everybody saw the frown that slowly crept across his ebony face and the sidelong look that he flashed at Emilio.

"I'm afraid this is going to take awhile," he disappointedly said. Pausing to look over at Poole, he asked, "Is this the only image you've been able to recover?"

"There does seem to be some other function associated with the default setting," the android leader replied. "Do you want me to try it?"

"Absolutely," Emilio impatiently answered, upset by the tardiness of the suggestion.

The image altered only slightly. But some of the systems within the depicted area of space were now highlighted. There were also areas that had the appearance of shipping lanes. One star system had a designation that made it seem preeminent to all the rest.

"That must be their homeworld," Jamul said as he pointed and spoke for the group.

"Don't keep us in the dark about what you're doing in there," Emilio incisively said to Poole. "Are there any other developments?"

"I'm still collating," Poole temperamental replied.

Knowing that it might be some time before Jamul would be able to identify the stars in the image, Eleanor and Colin headed for the exobiology lab. She needed to check up on Suki and see how she was doing with the new samples. She doubted if the ovipositor had tested positive for any viable genetic material since she was sure she would already have heard about it from either Emilio or Tan. But as far as she was concerned, the only thing they needed to understand about the parasitoids was that they were to be avoided at all costs. The architects of the derelict were however of immense interest, particularly now that inroads were being established with their technology.

The star map could quite conceivably be used to facilitate contact, assuming that so advanced a civilization had not itself been eradicated by the thing that killed the derelict's crew. Therefore it was absolutely essential to garner whatever could be understood from their remains. As soon as she could possibly justify to the director such instructions, she intended to turn her team's attention away from the petrified parasitoids and get them to focus entirely on the architects.

Suki seemed excited to see her supervisor, as Eleanor and Colin sashayed into the brightly illuminated lab. With a sweeping gesture of her latex-gloved hand, she indicated the dissected ovipositor. The solidified condition of its entire interior was apparent, even from across the room. Eleanor breathed a silent sigh of relief at the sight.

"Tan already knows we couldn't extract anything for him to test," Suki said. "I should be sorry, I suppose. But I wasn't really thrilled at the prospect of trying to determine their nutritional requirements if we actually succeeded in cloning one. I'm ever so much more interested in their victims. The degree to which these beings can apparently manipulate their genetic structure is extraordinary. I've been by the bay where you're keeping those consoles and I've reviewed the recordings from the wreckage site. I have to tell you that I'm honestly starting to wonder whether they grew the ship or the ship grew them."

"Poole is still trying to hack his way into their technology," Eleanor informed her. "So far however, he's already managed to pull up a star chart that shows the location of their homeworld. Jamul is in there trying to identify it right now. It may only be a matter of time before we know where they came from. I don't see all the samples in here."

"The ones we're saving have been moved into cold storage," Suki explained. "Since we had so many to choose from, we've kept the best examples of the arachnids and the eggs. We also had over a dozen candidates for the drones. Of course, that Alien Queen you recovered was in faultless condition for a fossil. We drilled some holes in her to look for any viable genetic material, but she still makes for quite a pristine conversation piece. None of the crewmembers from the derelict were in particularly good condition; but since we're trying to comprehend their morphology, we've saved them all. Do you have time to take a look at them?"

"Absolutely," Eleanor answered. And then, she asked, "I do want to be certain that I understand though. Have you now eliminated every possible source of genetic sampling from the parasitoids?"

"Almost," Suki answered. "There was one egg still actually inside the ovipositor, and it's the only one that wasn't evacuated. As I'm sure you're aware, the other eggs were all abandoned by their occupants. There's an embryo still inside this last one, and I'm afraid it probably represents the best shot at recovering any genetic material. Our next and last procedure with regards to the parasitoids will be an attempt at its extraction. I really hope to disappoint our darling director one last time and, unless I miss my guess, I think we're in agreement about why we feel that way; however, he may have reason to be optimistic this time."

"Is there any way for you to tell what kind of embryo might be inside it?" Colin asked with concern.

"Only if we can sample tissue that hasn't been fossilized," Suki patiently replied. "We can't even tell what types of embryos were carried by the arachnids that abandoned their eggs. But the Alien Queen may have understood that she was dying. If she had not done so already and was capable of making such a choice consciously, then it's very likely the last embryo is that of another Alien Queen."

With that, they arrived in the airlock to the storage compartment where all the frozen samples were kept. Taking the time to first slip into environmental suits, they entered the most macabre of possible menageries. Even a wax museum filled with the imaginings of a madman would not have been as morbid as they were instantly surrounded by images of monsters and the most dreadful kinds of death. Taking stock of his repulsive environs, Colin thought he detected a discrepancy in Suki's earlier explanation.

"I thought you had selected only one out of over a dozen candidates for the drones," he said.

"No, sorry about the confusion," Suki apologetically offered. And then she explained, "We actually kept a dozen of the drones. These predators aren't true parasitoids; at least they have no counterparts, terrestrial or otherwise. This is why they are displayed beside the architects from which they seem to have emerged. While the crewmembers all share some similarities, you'll also notice distinct differences between some of them. Whatever morphology we find in the host seems to have been copied at least to a certain extent by the embryo that emerged. This unusual behavior separates the parasitoids from all other organisms that employ such a reproductive process."

"They adapt to new environments by mimicking their hosts?" Colin asked, obviously aghast.

"The one that smuggled aboard the Sulaco and got loose on Fury used a dog as the host for its embryo," Eleanor reluctantly admitted. "It copied the dog's characteristics."

"This suggests another possibly engineered aspect of their physiology," Suki replied. "I don't believe there's any process in all of nature that would give an organism the ability to incorporate alien genetics into its offspring. I read your report and I have to agree with your conclusion. The evidence suggests that these things are someone's extremely sick idea of a biological weapon. The architects were seemingly the targets; and despite how advanced they are, they were unable to defend themselves. I'm therefore left wondering just how horrible and frighteningly formidable is the species that unleashed this weapon. If we imprudently push this investigation too far, we might find ourselves in the middle of someone else's interstellar war."

"That's certainly a comforting thought," Colin sarcastically said.

"If the parasitoids were designed, but not by members of the race we've found here, then I'm afraid there's no other answer," Suki calmly countered. "There's got to be a third party involved, and it has to be something we haven't seen yet."

"And doubtlessly don't want to," Eleanor interjected. "Discovering that star chart may have been a monumental mistake."

"Then in order for Esperanza's assignment here to be successful, we either end up cloning the most dangerous organism ever encountered or discovering its origin?" Colin incredulously asked.

"I'm afraid that's about the size of it," Suki sorrowfully said.

"Is it too early to blow up the ship?" Eleanor exasperatedly inquired.

"Maybe not," Suki slyly answered. "But if you decide to do it, don't tell me first!"

"You wouldn't want a chance to get away in an escape pod?" Colin jokingly pressed.

"And go where?" Suki asked in reply. "There isn't a world in this star system that can support life, including the one we're orbiting. And you can call me pessimistic, but I really don't think Weyland-Yutani will send a ship out here to look for survivors. So, I'd prefer to go quickly if it comes down to such a terrible choice."

"I always feel so much better after our little talks," Colin teasingly said. "If we're done with all the motivational speeches, can we please get out of here? I'm starting to feel like I'm part of this collection, or about to be."

"Yes, but I'd like to ask something of both of you first," Eleanor replied. When both of her companions looked at her inquisitively, she said, "Please don't repeat any part of this conversation to Stanford. I think he's much tighter with the director than his station would seem to suggest."

"Point taken," Suki said as Colin nodded in concurrence.

Emerging from the storage area, Suki quietly said, "As uneasy as I admittedly am by what success could entail, there's one question that can only be answered if we are able to effectively extract some genetic material and use it to create one of these creatures. If we have to introduce it into host cells, as in cloning, it will probably copy at least to some extent the organism whose cells we used. But if we can get the cells to replicate on their own, will the embryo continue to mimic characteristics of the architects or will we maybe get a chance to see the organism as it was originally engineered? Could we possibly get a pure specimen and identify its indigenous characteristics?"

"What would that tell us?" Colin inquired, sounding slightly intrigued.

"There's no way to know unless it actually happens," Eleanor interjected before Suki could respond.

"If we end up encountering it again," Suki carefully added. "There's a chance that we would have a tactical advantage if we'd already studied it in its most fundamental form."

"And then again, we might not," Eleanor quickly countered. "The question is: would it really be worth the risk to find out?"

"Without foreknowing the results," Suki remorsefully admitted, "there is no way I can hope to answer that. One thing that's never been determined is whether the Alien Queen also mimics characteristics of the host. If so, then Tan's hope of getting a pure specimen can never be realized. But without the ability to deliberately gestate the fearsome female of their species, I can't begin to calculate the risk involved in trying to find out."

"Precisely," Eleanor agreed. "It can't be called a calculated risk when there's nothing to calculate."

"Nevertheless, we're obligated to try," Suki sadly said as she turned to face Eleanor. "Do you want me to assist you, or do you want to supervise?"

Before Eleanor could answer, her com-link began to chime. When Colin's went off at the same time, there could be little doubt as to what had transpired. And not surprisingly, they were both summoned back to the bay.

After arriving in the cavernous compartment, they were quickly joined by Marco and Tan. Jamul was already there, as were Director Esperanza and the artificials. The stellar cartographer had the countenance of somebody with something of supreme importance to impart. He patiently waited until everyone was assembled. Stanford was the last in.

"Some of you may know that our position in this spiral arm of the Milky Way Galaxy actually occludes our view of some of its other sections," he began. "For this reason, we sent deep-space probes beyond the plane of its ecliptic on both sides. They've sent back images of places in our galaxy that were altogether unknown to us. But being situated at the very edge of intergalactic space, they have also given us some of the most incredibly detailed images of formations in our local group."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Emilio impatiently said, "but will you please get to the point?"

Pursing his lips, Jamul replied, "I have some good news and some bad news."

Eleanor was amused at the way some expressions never seem to die, but Director Esperanza definitely was not as he irritably asked, "And?"

"I have identified the star field in question," Jamul ceremoniously said. "However, it's in Leo 1."

"What's Leo 1?" Stanford involuntarily asked.

"A galactic cloud approximately eight-hundred and eighty thousand light years from us," Jamul replied, relishing the impact.

"The derelict came from another galaxy?" Colin incredulously asked.

"How?" Emilio angrily demanded. "How could a spaceship without any engines have possibly gotten here from some other galaxy?"

"It must've jettisoned the engines," Jamul suggested.

"But it landed under power," Stanford disagreed.

"Then the engines must've subsequently been destroyed," Tan theorized.

"The landing site in the photos taken by the Sulaco is pristine," Colin countered. "An explosion would've left evidence."

"The engines have to be there somewhere!" Emilio heatedly stated. "I've surrounded myself at great expense with the brightest minds known to mankind and none of you can solve this mystery? Eleanor was at least able to figure out that there was a second nest! How come the rest of you are so clueless? Can't anyone tell me what the hell happened to the engines?"

"Either the force of the landing caused them to detach," Marco speculated, "or they were deliberately released and are now somewhere else on the planetoid."

"The military mapped every square centimeter of that rock," Stanford objected. "But they didn't find even a trace of any other alien technology."

"How do you know that?" Eleanor asked.

"The Centaur has been stationed here for some time," Stanford answered. "And I've been here since the beginning."

It abruptly occurred to Colin that this was the connection explaining the association between Stanford and the director. The telemetry expert's employment had been for the purpose of espionage, intercepting the military's messages. The conspiracy had created an inappropriate opportunity for Stanford's advancement. And he had dishonestly seized it, thus proving himself pliable to the power of Director Esperanza. That such an alliance should exist in the midst of so serious a situation, dealing with a creature that could drive humankind into extinction, was unthinkable. But now that Colin understood its nature, he would exercise wisdom and know better than to compromise his concerns by expressing them in an electronic communication. He would also warn Eleanor and Suki.

As the debate momentarily ebbed, Poole announced, "I think I'm able to recover the last image they accessed before their system went down. Do you want me to try and pull it up?"

"I'm not sure what good it'll do any of us at this point," Emilio admitted, accidentally undermining all the android's hard work. "But sure, why not? Let's see what they looked at in their last moments of life."

The image of the far-flung galaxy above the dais was swiftly replaced with one that was ridiculously easy to identify. Everyone in the room immediately recognized the Zeta 2 Reticuli system with Livinum and its satellites. Despite the Centaur's position within the projected star system, it seemed strange in the extreme to see it suspended above such an alien artifact. It was a moment before anyone spoke.

"They certainly didn't land here by accident," Vladimir finally ventured.

"They definitely knew exactly where they were," Sangria agreed.

"But why here? Why did they choose this place? And how did their ship bring them here to begin with?" Emilio insistently asked.

"Poole, is there any way you can possibly select and zoom in on part of the image?" Colin asked.

"Maybe," Poole replied. "There seem to be functions associated with the image. But I was waiting for Jamul to finish with his identification before I took a chance on possibly compromising the picture. What do you want me to try and magnify?"

"Livinum and the area immediately around it," Colin replied. "If the drive section was really separated from the ship, perhaps it will appear somewhere on this readout."

"Now you're talking," Emilio enthusiastically agreed.

Poole had some problems complying with the request. But eventually he was able to magnify the specified region of space. Although nothing of importance resolved on either Livinum or LV-426, a small white dot could suddenly be seen in orbit around the latter. It startled several of the spectators to realize that the system not only understood where it had been; it also somehow knew precisely where it was.

"That's scary," Chalice whispered. "What's it referencing to get its position?"

"This is useless," said Emilio, shaking his head. "I don't care how exactly it's able to locate itself. All I care about is how it got here. And this isn't getting us any closer to that answer!"

"But as advanced as this system is," Colin objected, thinking out loud, "why would it matter where it was if it lacked the ability to alter its position?"

"I'm not following you," Emilio admitted.

"It's like you said, Stanford," Colin curiously continued. "When all other possibilities have been eliminated then whatever is left, however unlikely, must be the answer."

"I'm glad you agree," answered Stanford, stupefied. "But I'm not sure where you're going with this."

Colin was looking with renewed incredulity at the consoles scattered about the bay. He then lowered his face to the floor, shaking his head, as his eyes moved rapidly back and forth. Having seen him in such a state before, Eleanor realized that he was having some sort of epiphany. She was about to say something intended to encourage him to share his insight, but he suddenly spoke.

"Director," he said, addressing Emilio by his official title.

"Yeah?" Esperanza uneasily asked in reply.

"What does an intergalactic drive look like?" the engineer asked.

Emilio paused for a moment before finally saying, "I have no idea."

"Precisely," Colin concluded. "We've been making assumptions about appearance when we actually know next to nothing about the technology we're trying to identify."

"What are you trying to tell us?" Eleanor asked, fearing Emilio's impatience.

"I don't pretend to know how it accomplishes such a feat, whether it somehow folds space or what," Colin finally said, attempting to articulate his insight. "All I can tell you is that every single piece of the derelict's technology has been brought into this bay. There can be no other answer. The intergalactic drive is in this room."

"What?" Emilio incredulously asked. "Are you serious?"

"He's serious," Marco suddenly said, "but slightly mistaken. Not every piece of their technology has actually been brought in here yet."

"The fibers," Duff suddenly interjected. "They run all through the skin of that ship."

"Precisely," Marco agreed. "They must somehow be part of the drive system. Since they most closely resemble synaptic tissue, it's like the ship thinks its way from one point in space to another – travel without actual movement."

"That's just insane," Emilio finally said.

"No, the distance between the stars is insane," Eleanor objected. "And the distance between galaxies must be like the equivalent of stark raving madness. But the architects of the derelict have discovered how to think their way around all that. They've perfected a form of space flight that is truly instantaneous. If we can master their technique, it'd be the single greatest breakthrough in the entire history of humankind."

"That it most certainly would," Jamul agreed. "It's like they've connected their minds to the consciousness of the continuum itself. There'd be no region in the entire universe that would be beyond our reach."

"I'm afraid it's really up to Poole and his team to try and comprehend how this thing works," Emilio summarized, looking at the Artificials.

Meeting his gaze, Poole replied, "There's something we'll need if you really hope to see us succeed."

"Whatever you want," Emilio magnanimously answered. "Just name it."

"We're going to need the entire rest of the derelict," Poole evenly said. When he saw how Emilio's eyes widened in startled response, he added, "If we can't figure out how to replicate their fibers, we'll need the ones from their ship. If we use most of the Centaur's bays, I think we can just squeeze it in."

Eleanor and Colin were both getting immense enjoyment out of seeing the director in such a compromised situation. This to them was the best of possible situations. They had redefined the Centaur's mission, replacing its potentially genocidal agenda with one that could be of benefit to all humankind, turning it away from a fixation on the finding of a means of possible mass extermination and adopting instead an attitude of exploration. They exchanged a secretive smile. At that moment, Emilio's com-link chimed. He looked so relieved at the interruption that it was very difficult for certain members of the group to conceal their amusement.

"This is Emilio," he answered as he flipped open the device. "Go ahead."

"Director Esperanza, this is Suki in Exobiology," the voice said, echoing through the nearly absent bay. "I thought you'd want to know that we succeeded in extracting genetic material from the egg in the ovipositor. If you'd please send Tan over, we can get started with the replication procedure."


	2. Chapters 4 through 7

**Chapter 4**

_**Margin of Error**_

Tan immediately turned and exited the bay. Eleanor fell in behind him. Knowing how troubled she would be over such an unexpected development, Colin desperately wanted to go with her. But his place was with the newly delineated engineering effort. There was however something he needed to say first.

"We need to determine whether we can possibly replicate those fibers," he said. "At the very least, we won't be able to reconstruct their entire ship otherwise. There're some places where the shockwave disintegrated entire sections of its outer skin. If we have to rely only on what we can recover, we'll only be able to fabricate a seriously scaled-down version of their vessel. In order for the hull to have any degree of integrity, to be capable of pressurization, it might have to be no larger than one wing of the original. But as long as there's no minimum amount of mass required in order for the drive system to work, it should hopefully be sufficient."

"I'm not optimistic about the possibilities of replicating this stuff. I am not even sure if we can identify it," Marco admitted.

"Don't be discouraged just because Tan gave up," Emilio insistently said. "We've got an entire department of chemists and metallurgists. Take the first fragments you bring up directly to them. Poole, I'd like you to have some of the rest of your team try to power up and hook themselves into the other devices. Maybe we can figure out which one of them is the intergalactic drive. The rest of you can go with Colin and Marco and help them with whichever pieces they want to start bringing up by shuttle. The biggest sections will of course have to be loaded into the barges by the machines already there."

Colin was alarmed to realize that he was being expected to immediately depart and would have no chance to encourage Eleanor, but he could think of no way to temporarily shirk his responsibility.

Poole retained all the other Artificials to assist him and sent Lentz and Terrance with the two researchers. Having received their assignments, all four individuals proceeded to the partition that divided the immense storage area from the landing bay through which it was loaded. Accompanied by a pair of Artificials, both of which were quite capable pilots, it was not even necessary to wait for a flight coordinator to program a shuttle. In a matter of moments, Colin was unbelievably headed back to LV-426.

"Seems like I just left this place," he contemptuously commented.

"Probably because you just did," Marco agreed with amusement.

"If there's anything you need, I know the shuttles are kept stocked with food from the ship's stores," Terrance amiably offered. "And of course there are also the facilities in the back."

Colin elected not to counter with an old Earth adage about too much information. He knew the Artificials were all programmed to be friendly and informative. Sometimes it just seemed improper. Since the two of them were senior researchers in such different areas of specialization, he knew it had probably been inevitable that he and Eleanor would get separated at some point. It was just that the timing was so terrible. With her worst fears confirmed, in that viable genetic material had now been found, he knew she would need him now more than ever.

He was surprised to realize that he had allowed his excitement about their discovery to be stolen by his concern. He needed to prove the importance of the engineering effort. It was their best option if they had any hope of keeping the director from prioritizing a far more perilous enterprise. Forcing himself to focus on the business at hand, Colin looked out the portal and gave some serious consideration to sizing up what they were about to undertake. He indicated where he thought they should land. Marco was quick to concur.

The foursome spent the next several hours amassing a collection of small fragments that all appeared to have been adjacent in their original arrangement. The approach they took was very much like that of researchers at a crash site. Once they got the pieces up to the Centaur, they would then have to work on reconnecting them if possible. To Colin, it was like working with an immense jigsaw puzzle. The comparison made by Marco was much more obscure.

"It's like fishing," he said.

"Fishing?" queried Colin. "What's that?"

"Most of the fish on Earth are now considered endangered; so there are only certain places and certain times of the year when it's legal, and then it's only catch and release," Marco passionately explained. "Not so very long ago in history, it was a favorite pastime for many people. You put bait on a hook, dropped it in the water on a line, and then tried to snag a fish when he bit on it. Even though it's now only catch and release, you still put them on a line to see how many you can collect – especially in a tournament. Back in the day, you'd scale them, bone them, and cook them to eat. Here it's like we're trying to find the ones that haven't already been scaled and then we're stringing them up on our line."

"I guess what we're doing is about as improbable as trying to make a spacecraft out of fish scales," Colin joked. "But fish are aquatic. You pull them out of water not up out of the plain."

"But what if the hull of this spacecraft is somehow composed of creatures that once were aquatic, but they were then genetically merged and set into the shape we are trying to reconstruct in some small part?" Marco asked. "Even though endangered, there're still some eels on Earth that can generate a sizable electric shock. There are also some sea creatures that hunt by sensing the electromagnetic fields of their prey. Don't you see any similarity to some of the abilities apparently possessed by these parasitoids?"

"Now that you put it that way, maybe so," Colin thoughtfully replied. "Do you mind if I ask what it was that got you started thinking in these terms?"

"Believe it or not, I was considering what you said back on the Centaur," Marco said, smiling broadly. "You said we might have to fabricate a seriously scaled-down version of their vessel."

"So it was the idea of scales, huh?" Colin laughingly asked, making a mental note to remember that Eleanor was not the only one of his shipmates who displayed a penchant for repeating a person's words back to them. "Do you have any other associated insights to offer?"

"Maybe, but please keep in mind that I'm not a marine biologist. It's just a hobby," he replied. "I know there are some starfish that can range all the way from sea level down to its most crushing depths. Maybe that's not really far away from something with the ability to endure the vacuum of space. And an octopus can radically change both the color and the texture of its skin to blend in with its background. I suppose that's pretty far removed from folding space to escape from a predator, but the behavior at least offers some kind of comparison."

"So the derelict may have incorporated abilities that are not entirely unknown among Earth's aquatic animals," Colin concluded.

"Precisely my point," Marco agreed. "The Architects, since I guess that's what we're calling them, may've genetically enhanced similar capabilities in sea creatures that were indigenous to their world. If they had discovered an animal that could utilize some kind of quantum displacement, even if the dislocation was extremely localized, then it's possible their breakthrough it space flight may've even been based on biology."

"You might want to have that conversation with Eleanor," suggested Collin, "after we get back to the Centaur."

"Perhaps you should take the opportunity while I deliver some sample pieces to the Chemistry Department," Marco rejoined. "I'll have to explain that we need to identify the materials and hopefully find a way to fuse them back together. I might be a few minutes, and I'm sure you can represent my ideas to Eleanor."

"I'd be happy to do so," Colin replied, while wondering if Marco suspected what was taking place between the pair and was choosing to cordially extend them an opportunity for interaction that would otherwise not exist. "For my part, I must admit that I'm dubious about our ability to duplicate the fibers – even if we are able to identify their composition. I expect that we'll have to try and reassemble their ship, at least in part; as if that's going to actually be any easier. Have you given any thought to how we might accomplish that? Do you have any ideas on how to restore these connections?"

"The chances of our success may be based on just advanced their technology really is," Marco answered. "Since it so strongly resembles an organism, my hope is that we're dealing with a self-healing ship. Maybe if we simply hold two neighboring pieces in place and send a little electricity through their fibers, they'll fuse back together. It sounds like a long shot, to be sure, but it might be worth a try."

"We should be so lucky," Colin agreed.

Because they were trying to only select fragments that seemed to have come from the same sections of the ship, the process was much more time-consuming that it would have otherwise been. It took several hours for the four workmen to finally fill the shuttle's hold, much of which was spent in conversation about the unusual weight and associated consistency of the samples. By the time they finished, Colin and Marco were both feeling quite fatigued, although Terrance and Lentz showed no traces of tiring.

After removing their environmental suits and falling into their flight seats, the organic individuals were extremely silent all the way back to the Centaur. From the deep, regular breaths being taken by Marco, Colin correctly assumed that his exhausted associate had in fact fallen asleep. The engineer spent most of the flight quietly anticipating his chance to see Eleanor again. He was afraid he would not find her in very good spirits.

As Marco was roused to wakefulness by the landing, Colin said, "I'll meet you in the bay when you're done with the chemists. I'm on my way to exobiology."

With heavy equipment and Artificials on hand, Colin knew he wouldn't be needed to help unload the shuttle. He also wanted to take advantage of every possible minute that Marco's suggestion afforded him. He hurried across the compartment and sprinted down the adjacent corridor. Try as he might, he could not remember the last time he had been so excited to see someone.

As Eleanor caught up with Tan, she said, "That was interesting how Jamul phrased the accomplishment of the architects: connecting their minds to the consciousness of the continuum itself. I got the impression that the two of you know each other. Would you be able to answer a question about his observation?"

"Perhaps," Tan replied.

"His expression almost sounds like another way of saying the mind of God," Eleanor observed. "Do you know if Jamul is a religious man?"

"I believe so but I don't know the particulars of his doctrine," Tan carefully answered. "You'd have to ask him about that yourself."

"Okay, I'll do that. And I don't want to put you on the spot, but there is one question I think I should maybe ask, considering the industry in which we're about to engage," she said just as conversationally as she could.

"What's that," he asked in reply.

"Do you believe in the devil?" she asked.

Tan actually stopped and turned to face her as he answered, "I'm not sure I believe in its personification, but I do believe in evil. And if I come to the conclusion that it's what we've created, I'll be the first to recommend its termination. Does that ease your mind?"

"Marginally," she mysteriously said in reply. When he looked at her quizzically, she explained, "You'd still have to live long enough to act on your conclusion."

Smiling slyly and wrinkling his bushy eyebrows, he replied, "That's the plan."

Knowing approximately how the geneticist would probably proceed, Suki and all the other exobiologists had already assembled most of the required equipment and rolled it into place. They stood by to assist as Tan carefully confirmed their findings.

"How do you want to try to do this?" Eleanor anxiously asked.

"The Sulaco transmitted some results from the research done at Hadley's Hope," he replied. "In order to encourage replication, I have succeeded in synthesizing what I think will serve as a pretty good approximation of the amniotic fluid in the egg sacks. Because the embryo will already exist independently of any arachnid delivery vessel, we can only hope it will go ahead and grow. If it fails to do so, then we'll have to consider cloning. My objective is however to derive a pure specimen, so I'm hoping we won't have to resort to inserting its genetic material into a host cell."

With a level of competence that even Eleanor found remarkable, Tan carried out the procedure he had described. Suki and her team had recovered enough genetic material to facilitate the making of several starts. With extreme caution, Tan placed each of them in an independent receptacle.

"It could be days before we know how successful we have or haven't been," he said. "Meanwhile, I'm going to have to select between the cells of potential hosts. We brought a number of samples onboard from different animals. My overly optimistic hope was that we'd be able to recover enough of a complete cell, along with the genes, that I'd be able to refine the genetic material and use one of its own cells as the host if we had to clone, thereby still producing a pure specimen. But all we got was a sampling of its genes."

"Don't you plan to remove the nucleus of the host cell first?" Eleanor asked. "I'm not sure I understand why its selection is so critical."

"The imitative abilities of the alien make it uncertain as to whether such removal will really render it incapable of copying the host, at least to some extent," Tan replied. "Even if it really is an Alien Queen, as some suppose, we might run that risk."

"Have you given any consideration to the criteria for selecting between the potential hosts?" Eleanor asked.

"Some," he softly responded. "But as I indicated, I was being overly optimistic about what we'd recover. Since this is an exercise in extreme exobiology, I'd be very interested in your input."

Between the exhaustive procedure in the exobiology lab and then the review of the various types of available host cells, Eleanor and Tan were still very much in the midst of trying to make a selection when Colin caught up with them. They listened with interest as he explained Marco's insights.

"I'm sure the ability to bleed molecular acid constitutes a far stronger deterrent to an attacker than a simple emission of ink," Tan ultimately added. "But the latter is somewhat reminiscent of the former, and extremely poisonous secretions are certainly not unknown among the members of the animal kingdom. Although some are now extinct, there're still many contemporary examples."

"Do you have samples from any of the creatures he talked about or you just brought up?" Colin carefully inquired. "And do you think it'd really be advantageous to use any of them?"

While Tan sat considering, Eleanor answered, "We certainly do not want run the risk of making it more dangerous. For instance, it could be very disastrous to use the cells of an electric eel. We need something as innocuous as possible. But if we can match up its abilities with some form of sea life that is actually similar, it might help us get close to the target of a pure specimen."

"That's going to be extremely difficult, especially considering that the only form with which we're familiar has telescopic jaws and is bipedal," Tan objected. "But if we restrict ourselves to bipeds, it really only leaves apes; and pound for pound, apes are seven to ten times stronger than human beings. Many also have prehensile tails and/or arboreal abilities that we might not want to impart to our proposed progeny."

"Not that I want to contradict Marco," Colin said, "but I've seen some of the samples up close and they remind me more of insects or lizards than sea creatures."

"We've considered that," Eleanor answered. "Because some insects go through life stages, they share that similarity with the xenomorphic parasitoids. Unfortunately, many are also exceptionally strong for their body weight. We were probably already starting to lean toward lizards before you came in, although your input is appreciated. Lizards have two arms and two legs, even though their not bipedal. Like the parasitoids, they also lay eggs. Some types are poisonous, but we have samples of many that aren't. And finally, because they're cold-blooded, it's possible the clone wouldn't be quite as able to tolerate exposure to outer space. This could conceivably increase our control of the specimen."

"Sounds like you've already made a decision," Colin concluded.

"It's too important not to keep weighing all the options until the last minute," Eleanor explained. "If the replication works, cloning won't even be necessary. If it doesn't, we've probably got a couple of days before we have to make a final selection. And this debate will almost certainly continue until then."

"So in the meantime," Colin teasingly observed, "the two of you are almost going to be too much fun to be around."

"More so than usual," Tan frivolously said, rolling his eyes at Eleanor.

"That's about the size of it," Eleanor agreed with disgust, scrunching up the corners of her mouth.

"Well then," Colin said, standing up and making a show of stretching. "I guess I had better go see how Marco is doing with our impossible project."

"I'll come with," said Eleanor, also rising. Turning to Tan, she said, "I think the two of us have done just about all the damage we can do for one day."

After they were far enough down the hall that Colin was certain there was no chance of being overheard by the geneticist, he said, "The embryos might not develop, and even the cloning procedure might not work. Cheer up, there's still a chance that you could fail miserably."

A slight flexing of her cheeks was her only evident acknowledgement of his attempt at humor before she finally replied, "Even if we have to resort to some gene-splicing, the cloning will work. We have just enough genetic material to assure that. It's very doubtful that Tan will get his pure specimen, but I'm afraid we'll soon have something with which to test the containment area."

"I understand and absolutely share your concern," he consolingly offered. "But can't you employ a little optimism? The containment area could hold, as it was designed to do. And there's no point in dreading something that's still possibly days away."

"I'm still upset about what was supposed to happen," she inexplicably said. When he glanced at her questioningly, she added, "Oh, that's right. You missed out on that part of the conversation."

"What exactly did I miss?" he asked with concern as he purposely slowed their pace down the passageway.

"I'm sure you caught on to the fact that we have cellular samples of all kind of Earth animals onboard," she replied. "Why do you think that would be?"

A wave of obvious apprehension swept across his face before he replied, "I'm afraid to think."

"It seems that Weyland-Yutani was being extremely optimistic about what we would recover here," she explained. "They were hoping to test what would happen if the aliens got loose on Earth, by observing the types of progeny produced by various hosts. That's way beyond an interest in morphology. It seems that our darling director and his buddies in bio-weapons wanted to find out what the results would be if the parasitoids were used for personnel suppression on our home planet."

"You've got to be kidding," Colin disbelievingly said as he slowly came to a full stop.

"I had some suspicions and finally managed to corner Tan during our conversation," she said. "He had no choice but to admit it. That is why they needed such a preeminent geneticist to be part of the program. And until moments ago, he and Emilio were the only ones who knew about his mission's real parameters."

"I'm sure he'll tell the director," Colin concluded. "I'd ask if you think you might be in danger, but I know about your settlement with the company and your instructions to your attorney."

"First of all, that settlement and those instructions really mean nothing out here," she pragmatically replied. "The people who committed those atrocities are all dead and none of the victims left survivors. So, there's nobody left to prosecute and nobody besides me to compensate. Secondly, now that those test tubes are no longer empty, I'm in at least as much danger as everyone else. What have you and Marco been up to?"

"He's got an idea about how to possibly fuse the fragments," he excitedly answered, brightening as he spoke of something that held potential promise. "He took some over to the chemists, but he's probably back in the bay right now. We could be on the very verge of an historic event. Would you care to join me?"

With a sweeping gesture, he indicated the nearby hatchway that led into the storage bay where all the artifacts were being accumulated and towards which they had stopped making any appreciable progress. They resumed their walk until they had quickly closed the remaining distance. He chivalrously held the hatch open for her and allowed Eleanor to enter first. They immediately found Marco and most of the fragments from the shuttle.

"Ah, you're just in time," the synthetics expert announced as he saw them enter. "I'm about to put my theory to the test."

A few of the Artificials were already engaged in maneuvering some of the fragments into the configuration they had occupied in the side of the alien ship. Having successfully achieved that arrangement while Marco rolled a recharging station over to their location, they then held the pieces in place while he attached its leads to some of the fibers along the outermost edges of the collage. He revealed how nervous he really was by biting his lip out of nervous habit as he stepped back to the station's controller keyboard.

"I'm going to start with the power level that gave us our first indication of a response from the dais," he informatively said. "From there, if necessary, I'll increase the power up to the level that it seems to like best. If that doesn't do it, I'll have to be very careful going any higher. We don't want to take the chance of damaging the fibers in these fragments. We may still need them."

Colin and Eleanor both wondered if Marco was cognizant of having spoken as if the artifacts were capable of personal preference. Both concluded that it was simply the side effect of working with Artificials. But if the researchers were correct in their thinking, then the derelict really represented a kind of constructed organism and might possess a level of sentience superior even to theirs.

As Colin watched Marco warily adjust the recharging station's controls, it occurred to him that he had not even asked about whether the Artificials had enjoyed any success in their attempts to interact with the consoles. But he was not about to interrupt their activity with such a question. Having been alerted about the experiment that Marco was about to conduct, Emilio entered the bay just then with Jamul and Stanford right behind him. Like everyone else they stood silently off to the side as they all awaited the outcome. But they did not have to wait long before there was a significant response.

The edges began to glow, even where no power leads were attached. All the seams started disappearing and the scarcely supported shape suddenly flexed itself into rigidity. The Artificials struggled, shifting their weight, as they tried to keep its new cohesiveness balanced between them. As this occurred, each of the assembled organic individuals felt a vibration, a powerful pulse, emanate from the freshly unified formation. It was every bit as worrisome as it was wondrous.

"What the hell was that?" Emilio demanded.

As the Artificials looked at him inquiringly, Marco replied, "The skin of their ship was apparently crafted to interact with the continuum. Perhaps what we experienced was the reestablishment of that link."

Before the director could comment further, his com-link chimed and, after answering it, he returned his attention to the synthetics expert and said, "That was the bridge. They just detected what they can only describe as a quantum disturbance. It came from inside the ship. It was located in this bay. If that's what happens when you get just a few pieces to fuse back together, what'll happen if you assemble an entire ship?"

"We're only going to assemble one small section of it at a time," Marco countered. "I really don't think there's any cause for concern. It's not like anything was damaged!"

"Unfortunately, there's no guarantee that the entire ship won't resonate every time a new section is put into place," Colin unexpectedly argued. "And we've no way to assess what the eventual results might be. We could weaken the integrity of the Centaur without even knowing it. Since we've no idea how it was originally assembled, it might be wise to utilize a more controlled environment. Perhaps we'd better just put it back together in the same place it came apart. Hopefully putting some distance between the disturbance and our ship will create a buffer between the two."

"We'll have to work in environmental suits," Marco complained.

"Poole and his team won't," Emilio observed. "And we won't have to transport all the pieces up from LV-426. It might make the work go quicker."

"Not that it matters," Poole interjected during the pause in the conversation, "but I've confirmed that none of my team experienced the anomaly you're describing. I don't know why it would've been imperceptible to us. But since our self-diagnostics find no evidence of any effects, it seems doubtful that the Centaur could be compromised."

"Nonetheless," Emilio stonily said, "The phenomenon was extremely unpleasant and I see no reason why every person on this ship should be repeatedly exposed to it. We've got too many critical operations going on at the same time to take unnecessary chances of breaking someone's concentration at the wrong moment. Would you agree, Eleanor?"

_So, you only ask for my opinion when you know I'm going to back you up_.

"I absolutely agree," she instantly answered. And then, she added, "In fact, since we already have parasitoid embryos gestating onboard, I'd even be in favor of evacuating all nonessential personnel to the planetoid."

Being aware that an increasingly abrasive relationship existed between Eleanor and Emilio, and desperate to interject jocularity into the conversation, Stanford asked, "What if someone only feels nonessential? Does that count?"

"What's the matter? Can't you feel the love?" Colin jokingly asked him.

To Terrance and Lentz, who were standing close by, Poole said, "Sounds like there must be something else going on in here that's beyond ability to experience."

Marco guffawed. He knew just how rare it was for Artificials to explore the existential realm of humor. He also appreciated just how remarkably perceptive the android actually was, since Poole seemingly understood that an attempt was underway to provide comic relief and thus defuse an unfortunate confrontation. Given the desirability of encouraging such behavior in the Artificials, almost everyone jovially joined in. Emilio abstained all by himself.

At the conclusion of the laughter, he turned to Stanford and said, "I will tell you when you're nonessential. Everybody get back to work. Your shifts are almost over."

Much to everyone's amusement, Stanford pretended to pout as Emilio turned away. The director did not even look back to determine the reason for the resumed merriment. Chalice did a very good job of emulating Stanford's expression as she strolled over and slapped the telemetry expert on the back. Marco immediately found himself wondering if the quantum disturbance had really failed to have any effect on the Artificials. They were not known for manifesting such camaraderie.

"The recharging stations are very mobile," he finally said. "And since we'll eventually need the consoles back on LV-426 when we're ready to hook up however much we can assemble of the skin, we might as well load everything back into the shuttles."

Even though the Artificials could have easily accomplished the task alone, everyone stayed and helped. There was not enough time to accomplish anything more meaningful anyway. With that completed, they are retired to the mess hall. Since the Artificials could undertake the transfer of all the accumulated materials back to the planetoid while all the organics were asleep, they remained with the group until the meal was finally consumed and everyone retired. Marco felt that they were actually thanking everyone for their help.

For at least a pair of the participants, breaking fast after the ensuing sleep-cycle was an emotionally difficult ordeal. Since the reconstruction effort was being relocated to LV-426, Eleanor and Colin would soon be seeing little of each other. In addition to the team of engineers, headed up by Colin, Marco and the Artificials would also soon be spending little time with their other associates. Stanford, Jamul, and even Tan seemed somewhat dismayed at the development.

Everyone tried to appear optimistic as they faced each other across what could well be their last communal meal for the foreseeable future, but not even the Artificials gave a particularly persuasive performance. While the senior researchers with whom they most associated were asleep, they had transferred the artifacts in the shuttles back to LV-426 and set up an assembly area. They then prepared to serve as pilots and escort the team of engineers and other researchers to the surface. But even they appeared to suffer from whatever type of sadness can depress a synthetic person. Even to Marco, it was strange to see them all so out of sorts.

Eleanor was especially distressed. Once the meal was over she would have to head for the dreaded genetics section of the exobiology lab. And in the course of the breakfast conversation, as if it were the appropriate arena for such disgusting discussion, Tan had already indicated that the embryos were all successfully gestating in their test tubes and even growing at a most remarkable rate. Not only would she soon be separated from her friend and encouraging companion, Colin; but she was also about to confront in the flesh the frightful monsters of her nightmares. To her, the entire situation seemed increasingly unacceptable.

Empathically anticipating how emotional the meal might become, Emilio Esperanza abstained from attending. Against the backdrop of such bothersome goodbyes, he knew how hard it would be to hide his satisfaction. They had successfully resurrected the alien and even the derelict was giving up its secrets. He had taken an immense gamble when he chose to assemble such an amalgam of individuals. With such divergent agendas, he knew the mixture might be combustible. But as an extra bonus to the way everything had worked out, the most unpredictable elements had now been isolated. Eleanor was much less likely to become a threat while separated from her newfound friends and teamed up with a geneticist who had repeatedly proven his constancy to the company. However, he did not understand what a confidant she had discovered in Suki.

After escorting Colin to the shuttle bay and fighting back tears while saying farewell, Eleanor steadfastly forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until she had finally traversed the distance to the exobiology lab. Mustering just as much clinical detachment as she could, she confronted the terror-filled test tubes. The contents were already close to exceeding the limitations of the containers. Tan had not exaggerated at all. He moved to stand beside her as she stood there trying to stifle her horror.

"Astonishing, aren't they?" he rhetorically inquired. "I wish I could claim my amniotic equivalent was the catalyst for their explosive expansion, but I think it was the organisms themselves. While you were all in the bay I made some modifications to the containment system, since we now have multiple subjects. The enclosures that will take them through their next stage of their development have been moved into the holding bay. Essentially, they'll just hatch out right into their cages. Would you care to take a look at what I did?"

Eleanor wordlessly followed him. She was almost surprised by just how satisfactory the arrangement appeared. But she was still concerned that they were now intending to incarcerate multiple creatures. To her, the margin of error involved in such an enterprise increased exponentially with the addition of each nightmarish subject.

Even though she was sure Tan would simply pay lip service to the infallibility of their security system, she found that she still had to ask, "We're absolutely certain that we can keep them contained, even if they're acting in concert in order to escape?"

"Redundancy is the secret of doing anything successfully in space," Tan confidently answered. "And in case he failed to mention it, Colin helped to design this system. In fact if he hadn't been forced to return to LV-426, I'm sure he'd be standing here assuring you of your safety himself."

"For the purposes of argument, I'm going to say I'm satisfied," Eleanor forced herself to say. "After all, it's not like we're going to be able to keep them in those test tubes very much longer anyway. Let's go ahead and carry out the transfer."

To prevent any possible mistakes, they used automation to accomplish the transfer. Everybody in the exobiology lab stopped what they were doing long enough to watch the procedure. Suki sidled up alongside Eleanor as the perilous process was completed.

"So, it looks like we're getting new neighbors. Isn't this just incredibly exciting?" she asked with embellished animation.

Eleanor pursed her lips and looked at the floor for a moment before finally replying, "I know how unnerving it's going to be having them only a matter of bulkheads away, but the entire rest of the crew is depending on us to do the right thing if there's any problem. And I'd rather be here, where we have the option of zapping them into outer space, than anywhere else on the ship."

"I haven't been able to get my eyes off those test tubes ever since you and Tan put monsters in them," Suki admitted. "Now that there's something like meaningful distance between, I'm tempted to go back into the deep freeze just to get totally away from them. Would you care to accompany me?"

"Have you had any luck with the cadavers?" Eleanor asked, as she turned to follow Suki.

"Just questions and observations," she conversationally answered. "Probably more questions though."

"Could you please be a little less specific?" Eleanor teasingly suggested as the two women slipped into environmental suits and prepared to enter the freezer.

"How 'bout if I just show you?" Suki playfully asked in reply as she finished securing the latches on her suit.

With a nod, Eleanor followed her into the freezer but then immediately found herself wondering just how preferable was the view in its distinctly crypt-like confines to the one they had only just abandoned. Images of gruesome death were everywhere. Suki roused her from her revulsion by directing her attention to the most immediate exhibits.

"At first I was mostly interested in the imitative abilities of the parasitoids," she said. "So I was focusing almost solely on the differences between the Architects and how they were mirrored in the monsters that used them as hosts. As a result, it took me awhile to start considering the actual similarities between the genetically modified crewmembers."

"Okay, and what did you find?" Eleanor patiently asked.

"Even though they're of much more significant stature in comparison to us, they are almost conspicuously humanoid," she slowly responded. "Whereas the parasitoids may be bipedal merely as a result of mimicking their hosts, the ratios of the external features of the Architects exactly parallel our own."

"Exactly?" Eleanor questioningly echoed. "Just how exactly are we talking about?"

"Right down to the micron," Suki answered. She seemed decidedly apprehensive to be sharing such information.

"That's got to be the most incredible cosmic coincidence of all time," Eleanor softly said in reply. And then, she asked, "Have you any idea about what to make of it?"

"None that would not call all concepts of sanity into question," Suki candidly replied. "But then again, I'm not the senior exobiologist onboard; so, I don't really think it's up to me to make such a determination."

"Thanks a lot!" Eleanor jokingly exclaimed. "Remind me to promote you real soon!"

"Considering what you're now in charge of," Suki replied, tilting her head and looking sidelong at her supervisor, "I wouldn't want your job. And I am afraid to think what such a promotion would probably mean had happened to you."

"I seem to remember a comment Colin made about your motivational speeches last time we were in here," Eleanor darkly observed, frowning affectedly at her assistant. "I'm surprised I let you trick me into coming in here again."

"We could go hang out with the new boys on the block instead, if you'd prefer," Suki countered, shrugging her shoulders.

"I guess they are all male at that," Eleanor agreed, flabbergasted. "But I hardly think they are deserving of terms of endearment. And if you go and start trying to name them, we're going to have problems. I'll have you confined to the infirmary."

"Would you please?" Suki playfully pleaded. "I'd be ever so grateful."

"Don't go getting your hopes up. I need you right where you are too much," Eleanor honestly admitted. "Let's get out of here."

As she slipped out of the environmental suit and headed back across the exobiology bay, she noticed that Tan had become intensely occupied with something that seemingly required microscopy. Interested in learning what he was up to, she approached his work station. But he was so engrossed that he apparently failed to apprehend her proximity.

"You look very busy," she casually observed. As he turned towards her and she saw that she had startled him, she gestured at the piece of equipment he was employing and asked, "Microbiology?"

She abruptly realized that he had lost track of her and, due to not understanding that she was merely in an adjacent compartment, had engaged in some form of industry that he had hoped to keep hidden. She tried to keep her sudden suspicion from creeping into her expression as he fumbled for words.

"I hope you're not going to be terribly upset," he nervously said, trying to preface his admission with a disclaimer, "but you know we have never determined if an Alien Queen also mimics the characteristics of its host. Now that we've isolated the purest specimens we can hope to obtain, and the embryos have gestated sufficiently enough to reveal that they are in fact all female, I've been tasked with trying to make that determination."

Although circumstances caused him to work in the area for which she had oversight, she was not Tan's supervisor. And she hardly needed to ask who had given him such an assignment. But because they were engaged in such potentially perilous research, there was no point in straining her professional relationship with the man if it could be avoided.

"How do you hope to make that determination?" she asked with what she managed to make sound like nothing more than professional curiosity.

"Cloning," he simply replied. "I'm making use of those host cells that we discussed."

"You have four Alien Queens now in the containment area and you're trying to make a fifth?" she carefully inquired, raising her eyebrows at the very idea.

"Yes," he trembled as he responded.

"That's cheating. You can't have more than four of a kind," she comically concluded. "Remind me to never play cards with you."

Even though it was a perceptibly delayed reaction, Tan laughed uproariously as she turned and walked away. She was pleased with herself for having found a way to call his activity into question without offending him. She had cautioned and reassured him at the same time. _Maybe I'm learning how to play this dangerous game_.

It was actually a little too early in the shift for a meal break. But since the maturation of the embryos would probably soon be dictating their schedules for her entire team, she thought it best to take advantage of the brief break in the activity. Suki took notice as her supervisor, upon leaving the exobiology bay, turned in the direction of the mess hall. She hurried to follow. There seemed little point in taking their breaks separately.

Sauntering into the immense eating area, the two women espied Jamul sitting alone in a corner. He was staring vacantly at his dicta-screen. There was an empty plate sitting beside him along with a half full cup of coffee that was no longer steaming. He appeared completely preoccupied, not even acknowledging their approach until they were about to slip into the seats on either side of him.

"How's it going?" Eleanor asked, using the colloquialism to establish familiarity as he looked up with surprise.

"I'm not sure," he honestly answered.

Leaning over and looking at the display on the dicta-screen, Eleanor recognized the original image from the derelict's dais and asked, "What's the matter?"

"I have been thinking about the representation of Leo 1," he pensively replied, "and I cannot reconcile certain aspects of the image."

"You think you may've gotten the galaxy wrong?" Suki asked, suddenly concerned.

"No, it's definitely Leo 1," the stellar cartographer answered. "At least, that's the way Leo 1 looked eight-hundred and eighty thousand years ago."

"What?" Eleanor asked, completely confused. "What do you mean?"

"The light we see left it that long ago, because that's how far away it is," Jamul softly explained. "In order for the Architects to travel instantaneously across enormous regions of space, as we're assuming they do, they'd also have to be traveling through time. Even an instantaneous jump from here to the nearest star system would constitute time travel. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

"Yes," Eleanor and Suki answered in unison.

"If their ship is truly capable of such seemingly impossible exploits, it would seem to stand to reason that their navigational system would show potential targets as they are – not as they were," Jamul insisted. "Otherwise, their course could be off by thousands or even millions of light years, especially if they're leaping between galaxies."

"I see the problem," Eleanor agreed. "What do you think it means?"

"I've come up with only three possible explanations," he slowly answered.

"Go ahead," she said, encouraging him to continue.

"They may be hyper-accurately compensating for the relative motion of their target," he suggested. "The problem with that explanation is that it would probably only account for where a galaxy is; not for the configuration of the star systems within it, unless they'd already been there and had that information. And so, it wouldn't work for the initial visit."

"What would?" Suki asked as Eleanor sat there considering his idea.

"A series of short jumps would facilitate getting an increasingly accurate fix on their target," he replied. "The problem with this explanation is that it really does not agree with our idea about how advanced they actually are. It seems rather incredibly incongruent to be traveling instantaneously in a living vessel between galaxies, but relying on what can only be described as a "slop counts" kind of navigation."

"I see what you mean," Suki concurred.

Nodding in agreement, Eleanor asked, "What was the other possibility? You did say there were three, didn't you?"

"Please remember that we're dealing with a technology beyond our comprehension and making what may be completely uneducated guesses about the unknown," he said. "The third possibility is that we're dealing with something that's from nowhere near what we would call the present."

"Can you possibly explain that any further?" Eleanor inquired as Suki sat there with her mouth hanging open.

"We are assuming they realized what was happening to them just in time to scuttle their ship," Jamul replied. "Perhaps they deliberately dislocated themselves in time and used their navigational system to try and complicate the spread of any contagion."

"So they may've actually been from Leo 1 when it looked the way it did in the image, but they sent themselves almost a million years forward in time to avoid contaminating a recovery team?" Suki asked.

"Possibly," Jamul replied.

"Have you considered the possibility that they didn't get where they had intended to go, that the emergence of the aliens interrupted them on route?" Eleanor asked. "If they were coming from Leo 1, what would have been along their course if they hadn't landed on LV-426?"

"I considered that. But without knowing exactly when their ship sat down, there's no way I can even attempt to make such a calculation," he sadly responded.

"Of course not," Eleanor unhappily admitted, accepting the disappointment.

"Have you talked to the director about any of this?" Suki decided to take the chance of asking.

"Hardly," Jamul replied. "Emilio is only interested in answers. All I have right now are some incredibly esoteric questions."

Considering Colin and the activity in which he was engaged, Eleanor tensely asked, "How does this complicate the reconstruction of the derelict and the possibility of actually using its technology?"

Jamul looked up and met her eyes as he replied, "I wish I knew. I really do."

When Emilio and Stanford came walking into the mess hall only a moment later, she surprised Jamul by swiftly leaning over and switching off his dicta-screen. As she did so, she laughed and said, "You win. I should've known better than to play three-dimensional chess with a stellar cartographer."

Striding up to the table, Emilio smilingly said, "I'm glad to see you've got time to play games."

Smiling contemptuously, Eleanor coldly countered, "We were just in Exobiology, but we're gambling with our lives in there. Maybe you'd like to come on over and ante up."

"Thanks," Emilio said, shaking his head and actually sounding appreciative, "but we thought we'd take the ultimate risk and eat what they're serving in here today."

"I survived," Jamul cordially commented as he quickly gathered his accouterments and arose. He then paused for effect and added, "So far."

"That's encouraging," the director grinningly rejoined.

"It looks like you have yet to eat," Stanford accurately observed, looking at Eleanor and Suki. He then politely added, "Perhaps you ladies would care to join us."

Feeling as if she had just been drafted directly to the front lines, Eleanor exchanged a tight-lipped look with Suki. But with no way to politely excuse themselves, they nodded and followed the two men into the serving line.

**Chapter 5**

_**Downsizing**_

The view across the vacant vistas of LV-426 had definitely not improved while they were all back aboard the Centaur; in fact, to Colin, the landscape looked about as bleak as he unfortunately felt. It seemed to him as if they had taken two steps forward and one step back. All the control consoles, which they had so painstakingly extracted, were now headed back to the wickedly windswept world from which each had been conscientiously recovered. In an instant of exceptionally atypical cynicism, he wondered if an inspection of their alien undersides would reveal the expression "return to sender" inscribed there.

The Artificials were aware of his affinity for Eleanor and how his current assignment had necessitated their separation. It seemed implausible to him that simple programming could account for the supportiveness they unanimously showed. It was as if he suddenly had eight newfound friends, each of whom was resolved to somehow fill the void caused by her absence. Those that had not been called upon to pilot any of the shuttles all sat in close proximity to him and politely attempted to initiate conversation. Such an expressive show of sympathy seemed altogether outside the capacity of synthetic companions.

At his suggestion that they may have made a mistake in removing the consoles from the derelict's control room, Vladimir pulled up the program that they had used to simulate the shattering of the ship into its fragmented configuration. With Sangria's assistance, he started examining options for a scaled-down version of the original vessel. Sitting beside Colin, Marco looked on with silent satisfaction. After a few moments, Vladimir spoke.

"The control room is in the widest section of the ship," he observed. "If our goal is to compensate for the incinerated material by assembling something that approximates the craft in miniature, we may be unable to use that section. In reality, it's just as well that we went ahead and moved those consoles. It would've ultimately been unavoidable. And I'm sure we expedited our recognition of their capacity for intergalactic travel by doing so."

This reminded Colin of an item of information he had failed to acquire, so he asked, "Were you able then to figure out what the various devices do?"

"We have some ideas," Vladimir replied. "But before we'll be able to verify them, the devices will all have to be hooked up to one another again. Since we're not working with completed circuits, we really can't make conclusive determinations. However, we're very optimistic that once they've been reconnected we will be able understand how they each interface."

"We should be able to extract the housing of the control room itself and use it as the centralized location around which to build our downsized model," Sangria suggested. "It was nevertheless still advisable to evacuate the consoles first and minimize any danger of damaging them during transit. We just need to be absolutely sure we understand how all the routing works before we try and connect them to the ship in its new configuration."

"And just how impossible do you think that'll be?" Colin asked, unable to replace his pessimism with their preferred optimism.

"Since we can interface with the fibers and track their individual routes," she replied, seeming surprised that he had failed to anticipate the answer, "it'll actually be very easy. It'll just be time-consuming. But then again, we're not getting paid by the hour."

Looking into her artificial eyes, Colin had the distinct impression that she somehow realized she had inadvertently indicated just how prolonged a separation she thought he and Eleanor would be required to endure, and had then used humor to try and obfuscate the reference. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that even Marco was amazed.

Seizing the chance to steer the conversation away from the quite possibly extended duration of their endeavor and back to its earlier subject, Vladimir said, "We should have no problems reconstructing the ship. It's a simple matter of deciding on which design we should adopt. Once you've figured out the most functional form that can be built with the remaining material, we'll start putting it into place."

"Is that your exceptionally polite way of telling me that I need to get my mind on my work?" Colin laughingly inquired.

Meeting his amused gaze, Vladimir relied, "It's really up to you to decide how quickly you want to accomplish this task. We just need you to tell us what to do. If you get ahead of us, you might want to put some thought into the next part of the project."

"What's that?" Colin asked, genuinely mystified.

"The test flight will require a crew," Vladimir evenly answered. "Of course, Emilio will make the final selection. But I'm sure it will be largely based on your recommendations."

Colin realized that, because of how badly he was missing Eleanor, he had somehow allowed himself to become completely focused only on the construction of the downsized ship. It had escaped his attention that the ultimate ambition was to attempt its actual use. If they were right, then the craft he was about to collaborate in creating would be capable of dislocating itself in time. Hence, if the Artificials should fail to understand any aspect of its operation, the brand new colony of Alien Queens on the Centaur could be the least of their concerns. The unlucky crew of his amalgamated organism could end up stranded in intergalactic eternity. He swallowed hard as he considered that his position as the senior engineer would indisputably place him on that ship; and because of her being the senior exobiologist, Eleanor would also be billeted aboard.

Whereas he had just been fretting about being away from her, he now found himself wondering just how much he could drag his heels without being obvious about it. Moving to sit beside Vladimir, Colin spent the rest of their descent examining possible options for assembling a miniaturized version of the alien vessel. He was reassured to discover that there seemed to be numerous solutions, many of which shared a centralized structure in common. He would be able to seriously slow the construction by scrupulously pondering how it would really be best to proceed from that point. Though the encouraged Artificials altogether misinterpreted its meaning, he smiled as he recognized that he had organized his own little rebellion without any help at all from Eleanor.

As the shuttle was circling to land, Colin turned to Vladimir and Sangria, saying, "We need to extract the control room from the section of the craft in which it is housed, paying particular attention to all the connections that will have to be severed. The majority of the models for the miniature all have a centralized section that will need to be built around it. Since we don't know how the original ship was grown, it's anyone's guess as to whether we should build the rest of the ship and then connect it to the control room or start at the control and assemble the ship from there. I'm open to suggestions."

Colin was initially surprised when Vladimir and Sangria allowed Marco to answer the question, but he quickly found himself wondering if they had actually anticipated his input as the synthetics expert said, "I am afraid it's possible that we're going to experience one of those quantum resonations each time we attach a new section to the ship. As a result, it could be catastrophic to make the most major connections once all the rest of the ship is already assembled. I cannot promise that there'll be no severe disturbance as the last piece is finally put into place and the craft becomes complete, but I think the best way to reduce the overall effect is to begin at the control room and assemble the rest of the ship from there."

"If some kind of organic growth was actually involved, the most practical progression would have been outward from a central nexus," Sangria agreed.

"Okay, then we should collect the pieces we'll need to form the new framework that will house the control room," Colin concluded. "After we've set it up and reinstalled all the consoles, we can begin building the centralized section around it. In the meantime, I'll try to figure out which of all the possible shapes should represent our final configuration."

"Sounds like a plan," Marco concurred.

Before they could disembark, the two men had to don environmental suits. Because they had neglected to do this while still in flight, they were soon left to themselves.

As the sealing of the airlock placed the departing Artificials beyond any possibility of earshot, Colin turned to Marco and asked, "Are they different?"

Winking at his quizzical companion, Marco jokingly replied, "My good friend, they've always been different. They're Artificials."

"That's not what I meant!" Colin exclaimed as he playfully slapped Marco on the side of his helmet, causing the synthetics expert to involuntarily flinch. "I am asking you if they are different since we all experienced that first quantum disturbance."

"Maybe," Marco admitted. "But you must bear in mind that they are actually learning machines, designed to adapt. The behaviors we are observing may be nothing more the result of their interaction with so many humans. Like us, their characters are kinetic. I am sure you'll agree that neither of us are the same as we were only a few days ago."

"I see your point, but I'm not sure it accounts for everything," Colin countered.

"At the very least, I see nothing insidious in these changes," Marco replied. "They're much more empathic, even to the extent of seeming genuinely caring. They're mastering humor, something that exceeds the understanding of even some humans I know. I would say they're improving, whether as a result of the influence of alien technology or not. The situation really doesn't allow for me to take them offline and run a full set of diagnostics."

"I didn't mean to suggest they were malfunctioning or that we were in danger," Colin explained. "I just think something strange might be going on here."

"When time allows, or if I see any overt evidence of an outside influence, I'll run the full workup on each of them," Marco consolingly said. "But for now, we need them down here with us far too much. Most of the work we have to do is just far too delicate for big machines."

As they were cycling the airlock, Colin quickly said, "I wasn't in the bay when those other devices were tested. I'm assuming Poole is no longer the only one who interfaced with the Architects' technology?"

Thumbing a switch to keep the outer door from opening, Marco replied, "No, he isn't. But they're entirely independent of each other, and I'm seeing changes in behavior even in the ones who engaged in no such interface. I also checked the firewalls of each of the Artificials who did. None of them were compromised. I can assure you of that."

"Okay, I guess I'm just being paranoid," Colin said as he indicated that Marco could go ahead and allow the outer door to open. "It must be all the monsters I've been around lately."

"We're dealing with a kind of creature that could conceivably cause the extinction of our race," Marco recapped, "and a technology that could allow us to travel through time. If we're to make no monumental mistakes, we need just as many paranoid people as we can possibly get."

"I knew there was some reason they let me sign up!" Colin teasingly said.

"Yeah, they found me standing in the same line," Marco grinningly agreed. "It might be that our artificial friends are actually the sanest people we know. They might have to save us from ourselves before it's all over."

Eleanor had been hoping for a chance to talk with Jamul concerning his comment in the bay about the mind of God. Despite Suki's presence and the lack of an acquaintance with her spiritual views, Eleanor had been on the brink of broaching the subject when the untimely arrival of Emilio and Stanford unexpectedly thwarted the opportunity. Had there been any escape from the situation, she would have preferred to miss the meal that then ensued. Between Suki's intervention and Stanford serving as a referee, they all survived the ordeal; but it seemed like the friction between her and the director was constantly on the increase. By the time she and her assistant were able to politely excuse themselves, she felt as if her stomach had started to take on the characteristics of an alien organism.

As they finally made their way out of the mess hall, she turned to Suki and said, "I'm going to need an antacid for dessert. Would you happen to have any on hand?"

"Sorry to disappoint you; and I was just thinking the same thing," Suki smilingly said. "But maybe we should swing by the infirmary. It wouldn't hurt to meet the medical staff."

There was no need for her assistant to be more candid about the inference. Eleanor understood that Suki was insinuating the level of danger in which their shared profession had placed them, and there was wisdom in her suggestion. If anything were to go wrong, the proficiency of the physicians could be the final factor that decided who would survive.

The infirmary was easily as impressive as the exobiology lab. Since her job involved so much research, Eleanor had seen centers that specialized in the study of hypersleep; vast facilities where the boundaries of human hibernation were being perpetually pushed back. Even they had not exceeded the cutting-edge technology with which she and Suki immediately found themselves surrounded as they entered the medical bay.

"I've seen hospital ships that aren't so well equipped," Suki whispered to Eleanor as the doorway behind them swooshed shut.

"That's probably because they don't also keep murderous monsters onboard," said a voice from off to their right side. "But no safari should be without a surgeon."

"Safari," Eleanor echoed, as a blonde woman in blue scrubs made her way towards them. "That's a word right out of antiquity."

"I minored in medical history, although it probably should've been called barbarism for the well-intended," the woman explained. She then extended her hand and said, "Hi. I'm Kalinda Dubois, Chief Medical Officer aboard the Centaur. I'm pleased to meet you."

"Hello. I'm Eleanor, the Senior Exobiologist, and this is my right arm, Suki," Eleanor said, also extending her hand.

"I know who you are. We were in the meeting together when you were first brought onboard," Kalinda replied as the two shook hands. Turning and shaking hands with Suki, she added, "I'm sure however that I've not met you before. Please allow me to welcome both of you to my medical bay. Are you just trying to make sure you see the whole ship, or is there something I can possibly help you with?"

"I would like to eventually see the entire Centaur," Eleanor answered. "But right now we're both in need of antacids."

"Ah, been to the mess hall have we?" Kalinda laughed.

"It wasn't so much the meal as the company we kept," Eleanor honestly admitted.

"Ah, dined with the director then did we?" Kalinda asked in reply, precisely repeating the tone of her original question.

"Good guess!" Eleanor exclaimed, perceptibly impressed. "And how exactly did you figure that out?"

"It wasn't difficult. The two of you have been sparing with each other ever since you came aboard," Kalinda replied as she turned and, motioning for the two women to follow her, led the way to the pharmacy. "It's been quite refreshing to see someone stand up to him the way you have, although I only observed it firsthand during the meeting. Some of my associates have reported your other exploits, or at least the one on the bridge."

"You're really not offended by my attitude?" Eleanor pressed. "I'm sure some would call it insubordinate. After all, you are the chief medical officer of a starship on a mission for the bio-weapons division of Weyland-Yutani. Aren't you part of their program?"

"While there are doctors who've diabolically devoted themselves to the taking of life, I'm not one of them," Kalinda answered as she opened a cabinet and removed the bottle of requested antacids. "And considering his qualifications to carry out such wicked work, Emilio hardly needs help in that area. I'm here in case things go wrong."

"I'd like to say I'm here to keep that from happening, but I'm not sure I'm doing such a good job," Eleanor said, frowning.

"As long as I'm only treating people for things as menial as sour tummies, you'll hear no complaints from me," Kalinda answered with a smile. "You just keep my infirmary free of anyone needing to have an alien embryo removed, and we'll get along just fine."

"I'll try not to disappoint you," Eleanor evenly answered.

"What if the unimaginable were to happen and someone actually did get infected?" Suki asked. "Do you think there's any chance for their survival?"

"It isn't the implantation that's lethal," Kalinda answered. "Death only results as the weanling sheds its host. Surgical intervention might be possible in the interim."

"You think you could successfully extract it and save the person's life?" Suki asked.

"I'd prefer to never find out," Kalinda answered. "But since I'm essentially obsessed with the fear that it might become necessary, I've given quite a lot of thought to possible procedures. I'd like to think there's at least a chance of success."

"We'd like to hear them," Eleanor suggested, looking to Suki who nodded in reply.

"Such a large incision in so delicate an area incurs certain risks," Kalinda answered, "even without the presence of the parasitoid. And the survival of the entire medical team, as well as that of the patient, may depend on its dormancy. The most sensible solution is hibernation. In fact, hypersleep as a surgical technique has now been used in numerous situations. It seriously slows the patient's metabolism, drastically diminishing blood loss, and it allows for a type of regulatory interface that would otherwise be almost impossible to establish. It should also reduce both the rate of development and the responsiveness of the parasitical stowaway, thereby rendering it inert during removal. At least, that's my hope."

"But if it works, then the patient would live, right?" Suki asked, sounding cautiously optimistic.

"Unfortunately, we have no idea of the extent to which the embryo interacts with its host," Kalinda carefully countered. "I've reviewed enough of the information to know that the parasitoids incorporate some of the host's characteristics. This implies an impressive exchange of genetic information. And since we have never encountered a situation were the host didn't die as a result of being shed, we don't really know if that was the extent of the infection. If genetic information is transferred to the host during gestation, then we'd be dealing with another situation entirely. And I can't even begin to speculate about the chances of survival if that's the case."

"You're suggesting that infection could leave some kind of residual genetic imprint?" Eleanor asked while Suki stood in stunned silence.

"We simply don't know," was all Kalinda could think to say. But after a few moments, she extended the bottle of antacids and added, "Would you mind sharing these with me? I'd hate to have to open another bottle just because I talked myself into needing some."

"Physician, heal thy self," Suki quipped as she removed the cap and held the bottle so Kalinda could take some its contents.

"It was very nice finally meeting you," Eleanor said as she accepted the bottle from Suki. "But I guess we'd better go see what kind of trouble Tan has gotten into."

"Likewise," Kalinda replied. "If you'll hit me on the intercom when you're ready to go to dinner, I'll meet you in the mess hall."

"We'll bring dessert," said Suki jokingly, jostling the bottle in Eleanor's hand.

Although she had phrased it as a jest, Eleanor really was worried about Tan's latest experiment. Leaving the Centaur's medical wing, she and Suki took the most direct route back to exobiology. Since they had elected to go early, she was not surprised to find that Tan had left for lunch. In actuality, she considered it fortuitous since it gave her a chance to surreptitiously check on the progress of his project. She was astonished by the rate at which the assorted clones were growing. There were now four more test tubes that each held abominable occupants. And a trembling glance revealed that the view into the main containment area had become increasingly alarming; although still juveniles, each of the Alien Queens were now fully formed.

Suki, also curious to learn what Tan was up to, had followed her over to the genetics workstation and asked, "Can you tell the types of egg cells he used to start the clones?"

Making use of the fact that Tan's security clearance did not supercede hers, Eleanor referenced the samples that had been used to initiate each inception. Standing slightly to the side, Suki could see the details as they scrolled across the screen. Neither of the two women were the least surprised to find that phyla had formed the basis of his selections. One of the egg cells had come from a bird. One had come from a reptile. One had come from a fish. And one had come from a mammal.

"It doesn't seem so insidious," Suki observed. "And I can see he was taking the size of the specimen into account, since it would obviously have to be big enough to serve as a host. Can you see the exact samples he used?"

"Yup," Eleanor answered, seeming to strum the keyboard. "The retile was a komodo dragon."

"Wow, does that mean the clone is automatically placed on the endangered species list?" Suki joked.

"No, it means we are if it gets loose!" Eleanor affectedly exclaimed. "The fish was a sailfish. Hmm, I'm surprised he didn't choose the shark. He must have wanted to see if it would copy the pointy nose."

"If it still had the telescopic jaws, I suppose it would have to somehow compensate," Suki commented. "I guess I can see why he selected such a challenge."

"The big bird was a condor. No surprise there, except that he is kind of sticking with endangered species," Eleanor observed.

"I'll bet you the mammal is a primate, probably one of the great apes," Suki excitedly said. Since she was looking at Eleanor, she saw the smile fall from her supervisor's face before she saw the display on the screen.

"That was incredibly close," Eleanor despondently said. "And I'm much sorrier than I can say that I have to disappoint you, but the final selection was human. It does not give any indication of the donor. I can only hope she's already deceased. I certainly would not want to live with the knowledge of having helped to bring about something like this."

"Why would he do this?" Suki demandingly asked.

"He's examining worst case scenarios of what would happen if these things ever got loose on Earth or in an area inhabited by humans," Eleanor answered, desperately trying to keep calm and not add her own to her assistant's obvious anxiety. "It's his job."

"That's perfectly insane!" Suki angrily exclaimed. "I thought that's just what we were trying to keep from happening! That's like the company saying we're all expected to fail! What an incredible confidence booster! I hope you're not actually in favor of this lunacy, are you?"

"No, I'm not arguing with you," Eleanor soothingly said. "I'm just giving you what I'm sure would be Emilio's answer. His electronic authorization is right there at the bottom of the lab order."

"You know, at least as I understand it, he was originally hoping we'd come up with a single specimen to keep in the containment area," Suki thoughtfully said. "Now we've just gone from having four Alien Queens to eight of them. Not only is that way beyond double indemnity, but I think we're about to inadvertently determine something else."

"What's that?" Eleanor asked, no longer able to follow her infuriated assistant's train of thought.

"Whether or not Alien Queens from completely different types of hosts can coexist in close quarters," Suki answered.

"That's why we're keeping them in separate pens in the containment area," Tan said as he came walking in at that moment. "We don't want to end up having to play referee."

"It remains to be seen if we can even be successful at playing zookeeper," Suki said with a sneer. "If these ladies decide they don't like each other, I doubt if bars of tungsten steel will be enough to keep them from an incredibly caustic confrontation."

Before Tan could respond, Eleanor added, "If exposure to space doesn't deter them from fighting with each other, we would have to jettison the compartment and lose all the specimens over one simple mistake."

"Exposure to space is hardly our only deterrent," Tan finally found the opportunity to answer. And then, turning to Eleanor, he said, "But I'm glad to see you showing concern over the possible loss of all our work. The director seems to think you're opposed to this project. But I believe he's just overreacting to someone as strong willed as he is."

"Someone has to keep him honest," Eleanor sincerely responded. "We're simply too far away from the company's oversight committee. As vital as this project is, he needs to be operating with the idea that his accountability is more immediate than some room full of stuffed shirts that's dozens of light years away. By questioning the qualifications of his decisions, I'm just forcing them to be more circumspect."

"Then we actually are on the same page," Tan replied, showing astonishment and a new sense of respect for his colleague. "As I suspected, he's misjudged you."

_That worked. And he didn't even take issue that you're sitting at his workstation and checking on what he's been up to. Probably assumes it's nothing more than professional curiosity. If Suki can be satisfied with being his sole aggressor, I may be able to maintain the image of a supporter. Since he's really accountable only to Emilio, it's the only way I can ensure that I stay inside their loop. He'll confide in me as long as he considers me a collaborator, even if it's precisely the type of deceitful conduct I abhor in others. But with the survival of our species possibly at stake, isn't this that extraordinary case where the ends actually justify the means? How did it come to this?_

"An intergalactic drive, you say?" Captain Mikhail Kaminski disbelievingly asked as he looked across the table at Emilio and Stanford who were seated on either side of him.

He had thought it strange when the director insisted on the extravagantly sumptuous meal being served in the relative seclusion of the otherwise unoccupied meeting room. It was becoming obvious why the catered dinner was being conducted with such secrecy.

"We don't yet understand how it works," Emilio explained. "But we're certain it does. Their navigational system quite clearly indicates their origin in Leo 1. If Endicott's team is successful, we may soon have a downsized version of their ship. It'll have to be tested."

"Don't imagine that I'm not intrigued," Kaminski said, "but I'd hardly consider myself qualified to captain such a craft if that's what you're really asking."

"I'm sorry, but control of the craft will have to be carried out by the Artificials," Emilio answered. "They're the only ones capable of interfacing with its technology."

"Then what is it you want from me?" asked Kaminski in confusion.

"Beyond having the Centaur record the shakedown once the ship is ready, there is the matter of its crew," Emilio answered, "all of whom will have to come from your ship."

Inadvertently raising his eyebrows, Kaminski asked, "Whom did you have in mind?"

"Because they'd remain unaffected in explosive decompression situations, I know its standard procedure for a vessel of this size to keep a compliment of Artificials onboard," Emilio carefully replied. "But since they'd be providing our only access to the alien ship's technology, I'd prefer to have all eight of them. In addition I'll also need Stanford, to keep us in contact, and most of the heads of the departments that I created for this mission."

"I'm not very happy about losing all eight Artificials, but what about all the," Kaminski paused and searched for the right word before finally concluding, "precious cargo?"

"Once their nutritional requirements have been discovered," Emilio replied, "it should be simple to set up the containment bay for transport by a commercial towing vehicle."

"Since I'm assuming you're going to want all the exobiologists to be aboard the alien ship," Kaminski replied, "I have to take steps to safeguard my remaining crew. Therefore I can't let you have all of them and all the Artificials until such a transfer has taken place. With neither the exobiologists nor the Artificials, we'd have no chance at all of controlling an outbreak. I hope you know that you're flirting with a very serious breach of protocol."

"The construction of the intergalactic ship may happen very quickly, but it could take quite a considerable amount of time for the Artificials to sufficiently acquaint themselves with its controls to undertake any actual mission," Emilio answered. "By then, the towing vehicle should be well underway. I've no intention of putting your crew in a compromised situation. I'll see that you and those concerned are compensated for the inconvenience."

"I am not particularly happy about losing my best telemetry expert either," Kaminski pretended to complain as he refilled his plate, "but I don't want it to sound as if I'm overly antagonistic."

"I very much appreciate that," said Emilio, smiling. "There's somebody aboard who's already appointed herself the task of making up for anyone with any shortcomings in the area of antagonism."

With the consoles already removed, extraction of the control room went much more quickly than either Colin or Marco had imagined. After carefully reconnecting the devices to the transported housing, the two humans and most of the team of Artificials began the business of assembling the rest of the ship. Because of his experience in interfacing with the alien technology, since they hoped the reestablished circuits would now begin to give up their secrets, Poole plugged back in and tried to navigate the newly restored network.

Like Eleanor, Colin had a counterpart who had kept their engineering team on target while he was otherwise occupied; something that had surprisingly turned into a repeated requirement. Savvy Stevens found her supervisor as he was exiting the newly renovated central section of the proposed spaceship. However, for some reason, he seemed rather reluctant to receive her recommendations for how to accomplish its completion.

"I'm sure you know that, because of our exhaustive analysis, the computer was able to factor the usable fragments into a set number of possible designs. The central section was inherent to most of these, which is why you so wisely chose to start with that critical core structure," she said, prefacing the presentation of her plan. "If we want to maximize our options for crew quarters and areas for the normal amenities, I believe this particular configuration will best serve our purposes. If you'd like to go ahead and sign off on it, I'd be in a much better position to oversee its completion if you're unexpectedly called away again."

"At the risk of sounding like I practice appeasement," Colin carefully countered, "I'm not sure what Emilio ultimately has in mind. Your preferred configuration shares no small number of traits in common with several others. Until I'm sure of his expectations, I'd just as soon keep our options open."

"I thought I was maximizing our options and that you had the final call when it came to the construction," Savvy said with confusion.

"Just give me a little time on this," Colin patiently replied. "Even though he's head of the bio-weapons division and this is really outside his realm, we are here at his pleasure and he's the senior executive on site. The project is simply too important. I need to make certain that his expectations are at least addressed, whether they're worked into the final configuration or not."

Nearly dropping her dicta-screen as she shrugged, Savvy said, "Okay, it's your call."

As she turned away, Colin was unaware that his conversation with Savvy had been overheard by anyone until Marco cleared his throat and jokingly said, "Getting cozy with the director are we? And here I had you figured as a free thinker. Guess there's no harm in making the most of an opportunity for upward mobility though."

Colin had to struggle not to show his embarrassment as he replied, "Every once in a while I have to think about that retirement package. And if we play this right, we could be set for life."

"And I thought you were just in it for the science," Marco teasingly said, "and maybe the women."

Before Colin could comment, Poole unexpectedly appeared. The android leapt over a substantial stack of debris in his hurry to reach the two researchers. Although Artificial, he looked nothing less than alarmed.

"They know we're here!" he expressively said.

"What?" Marco asked in response. "Who knows we're where?"

"The Architects," Poole replied.

"You've made contact with the Architects?" Colin excitedly asked.

"No," Poole surprisingly answered.

"What are you trying to tell us?" Marco inquired, desperately trying to level his voice.

Turning to Colin, Poole asked, "Do you remember when you asked if I could zoom in on a specific sector of the navigational image?"

"Y-Y-Yes," Colin answered, inadvertently stammering as he tried to follow the line of thought.

"I don't know why, but it occurred to me to try zooming out," Poole continued. "I can't explain what I discovered, but the navigational image shows the location of every human habitation in the Milky Way galaxy."

After several seconds of stunned silence, Marco breathlessly asked, "How in the hell could that be?"

When no conjecture was offered, Colin asked, "Have you had any other success?"

"I haven't completely deciphered the encoding of the entries," he replied, "but I think I've gained access to their flight log. I may not be far from determining the circumstances of their arrival in our galaxy."

"I'm impressed," Marco said, sounding extremely serious. "Keep at it. We may know everything we need by the time our scaled-down ship is ready for its maiden voyage."

Poole appeared appreciably pleased by the paying of this compliment. If his almost human reaction surprised Marco as much as it did Colin, the synthetics expert managed not to show it.

"Thank you. I will resume my work right now," Poole very happily replied, obviously brightening. He then turned and moved away at superhuman speed, disappearing back into the shell of the ship.

After the android had been gone for a few moments, Colin asked, "Are you going to tell me that was normal behavior for an Artificial?"

Exactly imitating his tone, Marco asked in reply, "Are you going to tell me how in the world the Architects could have the current extent of humanity's expansion into space in a navigational database that may have been here for millennia?"

"I've been thinking that, when they discovered what was happening to them, and in order to keep from contaminating their people, they'd sent themselves to another galaxy and something like a million years into the future," Colin eventually replied after pausing perceptibly. "But I can't reconcile that with them having any contemporary knowledge of humankind, unless they'd made such a time trip before; in which case they'd have been knowingly endangering us."

"I agree," Marco concurred. "And I don't know how to answer your question either."

The two scientists spent the rest of their shift in endless debates about hypothetical possibilities, each of which finally failed to explain either the knowledge of the Architects or the odd behavior of the Artificials. Toward the end of the shift, Vladimir suggested that the two men return to the Centaur in order to sleep. He seemed quite concerned that the quantum disturbances, which occurred every time a new piece of the ship was fused into place, would prevent them from resting sufficiently. They gladly agreed and summoned a shuttle.

Eleanor awoke with the expectation of breaking fast with Colin before he returned to LV-426. Many of the other researchers were also taking advantage of the opportunity for a communal meal before going about their business. Tan arrived late and informed them that the clones were already of sufficient size to transfer into the main containment area. Due to not having been aboard during the phase of operation to which he was referring, Marco and Colin requested clarification.

Eleanor could read Colin well enough now to appreciate how much restraint he was employing as he sat and silently listened to the lengthy explanation. Marco's expression however was impossible for her interpret.

"Are you certain they'll all be able to get along?" the synthetics expert finally asked.

"They are in separate enclosures within the main containment area," Tan answered, "so they'll have little opportunity for interaction. And they're all essentially from the same species anyway."

"Yes, but even I know that confinement can cause some animals to act abnormally," Marco countered. "It's impossible for them to estimate their resources in such an artificial environment, which can create competition where none would normally exist."

"We've already determined the nutritional requirements for the other Alien Queens," Tan replied. "Those for the clones should be close to theirs, even if they also somewhat reflect the phyla that were used as hosts. As long as they're not lacking for anything, I'm optimistic that no kind of competition will occur."

"Not that I want to question your conclusion," interjected Colin, finally electing to say something. "But you're a genetics expert. You're not a diplomat. Or were you planning to run for office?"

That rhetorical question elicited some snickers. Though the joke was at his expense, even Tan could not suppress a smile. Emilio, entering the mess hall at that moment, was reassured to find the scientists in such presumably high spirits. Slipping in and out of the line until he had filled his tray, he headed towards the clusters of tables they occupied.

Kicking a chair out to receive him, Eleanor said, "And speaking of diplomats."

Emilio shot her a sidelong glance as he slid into the seat. Although he was uncertain of the inference, he decided not to question it when others seemed to find it amusing. He had learned to accept a little well-meaning insubordination if it improved moral. This was far from the kind of caustic comment he had anticipated from Eleanor anyway, so it was a welcome relief. He had no way of knowing that she was merely modifying her manner for the sake of her association with Tan.

Marco and Colin asked Emilio if they could stay until after the transfer of the clones, since they still had yet to see the occupied containment area. The director gladly granted their request. Therefore after breakfast was finally finished, almost everyone followed the exobiology team back to their section of the immense spaceship. But after observing the horrendous monsters than now lurked in its vacuum encapsulated portion, most of them immediately regretted having already eaten.

Operating the automation in order to accomplish their transfer, Tan maneuvered the clones into the containment area and their respective cages. At the end of the procedure the other four cages were full. Almost everybody looked on with disgust at the frightening display. However, there was one inconsistency that was instantly obvious to them all.

"Wait a minute," Marco objected. "I thought there were four originals and four clones that had each been grown from a different terrestrial host. Three of the additions all look different from both the originals and each other. But there're actually five originals aren't there?"

Indeed, it was impossible to differentiate one of the four clones from the other Alien Queens already in the enclosure. Several of the additions also began to obviously draw disapproval from the original occupants. The four more mature specimens transformed from simply sinister to openly aggressive. They roared, hissed, and raised their tails into attack positions as they regarded the three dissimilar newcomers. Oddly, one of the four additions was reacting in the same way, and all were aiming their animosity at the three that were unlike the others.

Before anyone could ask, Tan said, "The clone that looks like the four originals was derived from a human egg cell."

"What?" Emilio asked, aghast. "How can that be?"

"There are structural similarities between the Architects and us," Suki answered. "In terms of anatomy, we're almost unimaginably analogous."

"But why is it joining with the originals in ganging up against the other three?" Emilio demanded. "And why are they letting it?"

"The other three represent what we would class as lower life forms. Perhaps they're aware in some way of the distinction," Eleanor answered. "It might be that the position in the food chain of the host organism determines its placement in the societal structure of the resultant hybrid. We don't really know the extent to which the embryo copies its host. There probably are significant differences between the addition and the originals, but not anything we could observe with the untrained eye."

"I'm sorry to bring this up, but I guess someone's got to say it," Colin cautiously said. "The indications are that the Architects can travel through time. I suppose it's possible…"

Emilio suddenly stepped in front of Colin, raising his finger in the engineer's startled face as he sternly said, "Don't even go there!"

Even though almost everybody else was distracted by the disagreement, concerning which his friend was at the center, Marco's attention had somehow remained focused on the activity in the containment area. He could not tell if she had injured herself in order to produce the acidic spray, but one of the original Alien Queens was already dissolving the barrier between herself and the objects of her feral ferocity.

"Hey! You guys!" he frantically exclaimed.

Turning his attention back to the outburst in the bay, Tan seized the nearby controls, saying, "I'm releasing cryogenic spray in front of area three, and all of the floor plates are now electrically charged. She's not going anywhere."

With the obstructions disintegrated, the dreadnaught lunged into the direction of her intended victim. But the moment she took her first step outside the cage, she screamed in electrocuted agony. And before she could even think about attempting to leap across the excruciating distance instead, she was struck by plume of cryogenic spray that sent her sprawling back into the center of her steel-reinforced enclosure. But the respite was unbelievably brief.

Encouraged by her actions, her cellmates also committed acts of self-mutilation and used the ensuing acid to emancipate themselves. They too were temporarily thwarted by the charged deck plates, but Tan could not deploy the cryogenic spray quickly enough to make them retreat. In moments, several were menacingly situated on top of their cages.

"I could electrify their cages, but I'm afraid that would only make them go ahead and jump. And I doubt if explosive decompression could possibly improve this situation," Tan anxiously announced. "I've electrified all the cages they're trying to get to, but they won't know that until they're already on top of them. Hopefully, they'll turn and retreat."

Tan was sending intermittent bursts of cryogenic spray into the air through which the assailants would have to spring in order to reach their targets. But it was just too much to keep track of. One of the perched predators managed to time her leap so it was between the bursts of spray. She screamed as she alighted on top of her electrified objective. She stabbed into the cage below her with her spear-like tail as she trashed about in anguish. She did not elect to abandon her painful perch until she heard the death screams of her prey. Through an aperture that he opened in the floor after the assassin's departure, Tan jettisoned the cage before the acid could cause explosive decompression in the bay.

Clumsily crashing onto the top of her cage, a necessary if embarrassing result of her injuries, she then surprised her human spectators even further by roaring with vehement viciousness at the other similarly situated parasitoids. Strangely, their response was not reciprocal, but one that seemed to suggest obeisance.

"What's she doing?" Emilio asked.

"Alpha female," Eleanor replied. "She's establishing the pecking order. We're going to have to watch that one. She just successfully installed herself as the ringleader."

"Why does she look smaller than the others?" Colin inquired, confused.

"She's the clone, the human hybrid," Tan answered with astonishment as he looked at the cage number. "They're bigger only because they're slightly older than her. But the young blood took the trophy."

"That's rather like the Architects bowing down to humanity, isn't it?" Marco asked.

"Maybe our first four specimens aren't as pure as we've presumed," Eleanor replied. "The Architects are allegedly ancient, and it seems they've been involved in altering their genetic structures for generations. Maybe that makes them inferior as hosts in some way that makes sense only to the parasitoids."

"Maybe," Tan tentatively agreed, not sounding completely convinced.

"Which clone did we lose?" Suki asked.

"The reptile hybrid," Tan nonchalantly answered. "Fortunately, it was by far the least interesting of the lot. The fish hybrid is essentially amphibious, able to breathe both liquid and air. The bird hybrid however is the one I would have the most trouble controlling if it got out. But now that the retile hybrid has been eliminated, they all seem to have calmed down. Perhaps the originals are just now recognizing the potential structural advantages of the remaining clones."

"How are you going to get them back into their cages?" Emilio asked.

"One of their main nutritional requirements is water," Tan replied, "which is probably why the one on the Nostromo sought out the bay where the equipment was washed. He used it to bulk up. They'll have to go back inside their cages in order to drink. Although I can't fix the damage to the cage doors, I can simply replace them. And it will all be done with automation. Although I know it looked like it was touch and go for awhile there, this was an important learning experience for them. They now know that escaping from their cages means pain, not freedom. If they're as intelligent as we think, they may choose to simply accept their situation rather than risk exposure to additional deterrents. "

"If you hadn't acted so quickly in ejecting that cage, they'd have all gotten a taste of space," Suki observed.

"I'm saving that for the next lesson, if there even is one," Tan replied with a grin.

"Somehow I don't think they're going to just give up," Emilio said. "And please don't think I wasn't impressed by your performance, but I think we should have an Artificial on the controls. Response time could be very critical if they do decide to try again."

_You were wrong, grandmother. You thought the parasitoids didn't prey upon or take advantage of one another. But they even advance through assassination, just like some people I know. Maybe that's how the human hybrid was able to establish herself as their leader, because we're the only other species vicious enough to give them a run for their money!_

**Chapter 6**

_**Thinking outside the Box**_

None of the Alien Queens tolerated the replacing of their cage doors. Emulating the example of their newly established leader, they each injured themselves just adequately enough to emit the acid required to compromise their confinement. Because doing so did not necessitate actual contact with the bars of their most immediate boundary, there was no advantage in electrifying them. Their ability to slice their skin with their claws and then turn and fling the acid in the blink of an eye made it impossible to interrupt this unwanted activity with a response of cryogenic spray. And even though they were always pointedly punished after the fact, they chose to endure the discipline and repeat their performance each time the door was replaced. Tan feared that punitively depriving them of provisions would only complicate matters. Consequently, although on a small scale, the parasitoids had accomplished a type of triumph. Their cages could not be secured.

Because even she imitated the vandalism of the matriarch, the bird hybrid had soon made a number of flights within the walls of the spacious compartment. Since electrifying the cages effectively prevented her from finding any footing outside her assigned abode, Tan thought it altogether unnecessary to use the cryogenic spray to force her from flight. He considered using it to drive her to the deck; but because it was necessary to keep the floor electrified, and she might seek shelter on top of one of the other cages, he decided it was too dangerous to do so. They still had not determined if she was now accepted by the other parasitoids. He could end up unintentionally driving her to her death. She could unexpectedly lunge through the hole in her cage door faster than the reflexes of even an Artificial could respond, so the best way to get her back into her cage was to not give her any alternative landing locations.

Although nobody was particularly happy to have the bird hybrid flying freely about in the containment area, their ability to see its airborne operation had already revealed that it bore some resemblance to a certain type of pterosaur, a prehistoric predator of Earth's ancient skies. But after several days, and before Emilio could insist that some other way be found to prevent its flight, the Alien Queens each started to develop an ovipositor. As a result, the bird hybrid voluntarily withdrew to the confines of its spacious cage and, like its half-sisters, began the business of laying eggs. Tan and his newly assigned assistant were thus spared from having to produce some imaginative means of keeping the hybrid grounded.

Because strength was necessary when it came to assembling the new ship, and the female Artificials were not fashioned to be as strong as their male counterparts, Sangria was assisting Tan while Chalice was helping Poole figure out the functions of all its alien equipment. Being a leader in his field and therefore quite accustomed to space flight, the geneticist had encountered no small number of Artificials in the course of his travels. But none of them had been quite as comely or unexpectedly personable as his superhuman assistant. In his personal log he began to use the expression "another episode of beauty and the beasts" to describe his shifts in the exobiology lab.

Even though he was astounded at having such feelings of affinity for an Artificial, he was reassured by the degree to which the attraction seemed reciprocated. As a scientist he tried to keep up with all the latest advances, even outside his area of discipline, so he was aware that some almost incomprehensible breakthroughs had recently happened in the field of cyber-technology. Those innovations did not seem to be quite consistent with the conduct he had come to appreciatively expect from Sangria. But his recollection with regards to those articles was rather indistinct. For the sake of such a flattering friendship, he chose to presuppose that her inconceivably vibrant personality could be explained so simply.

At Eleanor's instruction, the carcass of the reptilian hybrid had been recovered. She knew that an autopsy of its remains represented their best chance of understanding how the elements of its freakish physiology worked together to produce the ultimate predator. Considering its incredibly fast reflexes, she wondered if she would find the same type of fibers in its central nervous system that they had discovered in the derelict. Even though there was nothing to suggest that it was in any way an Artificial, the telescopic jaws and silicon-incorporating exoskeleton alluded to some mimicry of the mechanic in the way it was engineered. And only an examination of something not already fossilized would be able to answer her most consternating questions.

Even though there was every reason to think that its acid had oxidized at death and made safe its inspection, Eleanor and Suki nevertheless took every possible precaution before making the initial incision. Its exposure to space had already relieved their trophy of its eyes and most of its bodily fluids. But they found little evidence of either scorching by cosmic radiation or frostbite from its evacuation into the void. Its outlandishly textured skin was as resilient as it was supple, so much so that they ultimately had to use a laser-scalpel in order to start the dissection.

Considering the terrestrial source of the cell that had been used as its host, the two women were expecting to encounter some recognizable aspects. But it quickly became clear that much of its anatomy was exceptionally atypical. Because its circulatory system was designed to accommodate something besides blood, it shared little similarity with its earthly equivalent. Its lymphatic system was also extremely unusual. Its structural rigidity was reinforced by an endoskeleton that also incorporated metabolized metals. And even though there were organs that could be easily identified, they were very seldom situated in their expected places. There were also a number of organs whose functions, Eleanor was frustrated to realize, would only be understood after exhaustive investigation.

In order to prevent the decomposition of their specimen, she and Suki had to work in environmental suits in a section of the ship that was cooled by space and from which the air was evacuated. It made their tremendously demanding shifts seem much longer than they actually were. Eleanor was heartened only by the anticipation of spending time with Colin at the end of each work day.

After spending only a couple of sleep-shifts onboard the Centaur, Marco surprisingly took to staying on the planetoid and sleeping in a shuttle. Colin informed Eleanor that the synthetics expert had been seeing a lot of Savvy. They had both already noticed the way Suki now seemed to always be seated beside Jamul during dinner, and that she and the stellar cartographer had also started leaving the mess hall together. The destination was not known.

"I've wanted to have a private conversation with Jamul, but it looks like Suki's simply going to have to be part of it," Eleanor pensively observed as she and Colin watched the couple exit the mess hall together again, leaving them at the table alone.

"Really?" queried Colin. "What's the subject?"

"The mind of God," Eleanor answered.

"Not exactly one of your lighter topics," he quipped. "What brought this on?"

"Something he said in the bay that day you realized the navigational system and the intergalactic drive were the same thing," Eleanor answered. "If I'm remembering right, he said it was almost like the Architects had connected their minds to the consciousness of the continuum itself."

"Ergo: the mind of God," Colin correctly concluded. "I recall his comment now. What are you hoping to discover?"

"We are about to attempt the use of a technology that is beyond our understanding," Eleanor replied. She then paused before finally finishing, "I'm wondering whether special licensing might be required."

"I think I see where you're going with this," Colin carefully responded. "And I am not contradicting you, although I'm fairly certain Emilio would. But I should perhaps point out that we use technology all the time without actually understanding it. Even as engineers, we rely on principles without comprehending their causes. When we talk about this thing we call the continuum, we are really only advocating an idea. We call gravity a curving of that continuum, caused by mass, but we've never verified its fabric. We don't even know why the gravitational constant is constant. Or consider quantum mechanics; we use it in space travel all the time, but it's really only an application of quantum theory, which is as the name suggests only a theory. There're major institutions where hypersleep and flight through hyperspace are both being constantly studied. We rely on them, but we certainly don't understand them."

"Okay, I'll concede that point. But won't you also concede that this is an exceptional situation?" Eleanor asked.

"I would even be willing to concede that what we have here is the very definition of an exceptional situation," Colin jokingly agreed. "And not that I'd hold it against you, but have you gone religious on me?"

"Maybe I've always been religious and you haven't figured it out," Eleanor replied.

"Talk to me," Colin encouragingly said.

"If my great grandmother had been able to enforce the company's quarantine policy, the parasitoid would never have gotten on the Nostromo," Eleanor explained. "But they'd put an android aboard to ensure the organism's return. Nevertheless, she survived when everyone else died. The odds against that have to be astronomical. Under pressure from the company, she returned to LV-426 as the consultant to a military mission. Impossibly, she was the only member of the Sulaco's crew to escape uninjured. And when everyone else aboard died, she was the only one to reach the surface of Fury 161 alive. She didn't know she was infected until she'd been there for several days. During this time, the other arachnid that also escaped with the cryotubes had placed its embryo inside a dog. There were consequently two chances for the company to recover an organism. But she saw to it that they didn't, even though it was the last thing she did while she was dying. I see no way to explain something like that without involving some kind of outside intervention."

"I'll have to admit that the series of events you've described certainly sounds awfully impossible," Colin concurred.

Seeing that she had actually succeeded in making an impression, she asked, "Have you considered our situation?"

"What do you mean?" he asked in reply.

"What were the odds that we were going to find the very thing they'd spent decades looking for almost immediately after the military prematurely abandoned this place?" she pointedly pressed. When he was unable to instantly answer, she continued, "They could easily have been the ones with the cargo bay full of alien eggs. If they'd only stuck it out just a little longer, they might've iced Weyland-Yutani right out of the equation. And then, we wouldn't be sitting here having this discussion, and you wouldn't be building a vessel that could defy the confines of the very universe."

"What was that last part?" he asked in confusion.

"Think outside the box, boyfriend!" she exclaimed. "What exactly is the range of your intergalactic vessel? If it can instantly traverse any distance and even travel through time itself, can't it take us utterly beyond the edge of the universe and to the very place where only the divine author of everything resides? Couldn't it maybe even take us back before the beginning?"

"My God," he absently responded as he abruptly realized what she was suggesting.

"That's what I'm talking about," she energetically agreed.

"So what you're saying is that, if in fact God exists, this ship might actually represent the way to go and see Him?" he asked with incredulity, carefully enunciating every word.

"Maybe," she quietly agreed. "I think it's at least a possibility worthy of some serious contemplation."

"I really don't want to sound agnostic, so please don't misinterpret what I'm about to mention," he replied, carefully prefacing his remark. "But even if their technology actually afforded them some kind of special fellowship with the Almighty, it certainly did not serve to save them from the most horrible of imaginable deaths. And I see no way to reconcile such a terrible tragedy with the idea of divine intervention."

"Unless they were actually targeted because of the special relationship," she replied, "and the identity of the agency responsible for the dreadful form of their demise is one of uttermost evil."

Completely avoiding her observation, he changed the subject by asking instead, "So did you want to try and catch up with Suki and Jamul before they disappear completely?"

Without any additional discussion, the couple quickly rose and yielded their strategic situation in one of the back corners of the immense mess hall. Turning into the passage through which Jamul and Suki had exited, they were disappointed to discover that there was no trace of the pair.

"Their quarters aren't along this route," Eleanor observed, "but exobiology is. Maybe Suki forgot something and doubled back to get it. Tan showed me a shortcut that I doubt if anyone else knows. We might be able to head them off."

"Since they took their leave us in the mess hall, that's sure going to look suspicious," he said. And then, shrugging in mid stride, he concluded, "But what the heck."

Making use of a doorway that was usually utilized only by technical crews; she led the way through a corridor that sliced across the width of that wing of the sprawling ship. They emerged very close to exobiology, but they could still see no sign of either Suki or her esteemed escort. With no other logical recourse, they went on into the lab. Tan was still there, despite the lateness of the hour. Sangria was with him but there was no echo of his apprehension in her expression, even though they were both observing what was happening in the containment area – or, rather, what was no longer happening.

Turning to Eleanor, the geneticist said, "I doubt if you'll be incredibly edified to learn that I now share some of the anxiety for which Emilio has made you famous. After all, we both know just how misreported those trepidations have been. But the most perilous part of our effort here has now been reached. They've all filled up the available space in their respective cages and they've been forced to stop laying eggs. What they need now is to find hosts for their embryos. If ever they were going to test our defenses again, that time would be now."

Although the moment certainly seemed inopportune, Colin's com-link chimed. After a quick conversation, he announced that Emilio had summoned him to the bridge. There was concern over the fact that he had yet to give approval to the intergalactic ship's final form, since the Artificials were about to reach an impasse in its construction. There could be no thought given to its outfitting or amenities until the dimensions of its compartments were determined. He sorrowfully understood that he would be able to delay no longer.

"I'm sorry," he said to his assembled shipmates, "but as the senior engineer, I've got to go make an executive decision."

Knowing that he had just completed his shift, Eleanor was understandably confused by such an unexpected development. She knew nothing of his decision to stall the ship's construction for as long as possible, since concern for her safety was the foremost of the reasons for his subterfuge. But there was no opportunity to ask for any explanation as he abruptly turned about and obediently headed for the bridge, leaving her with the troubled geneticist and his Artificial assistant.

Colin had no more than exited the compartment when Sangria, whose attention had remained on the containment area, evenly announced, "Something's happening."

Eleanor and Tan turned immediately to the display, but were reassured to see that it was only the bird hybrid deciding to separate herself from her now pointless ovipositor. It was not within anyone's ability to understand that she was actually acting in accordance with the hissed instructions of the Alpha female. After freeing herself with great difficulty from her reproductive sector, she hurled herself through the hole in the door of her cage and took to the air. As she circled, the other Alien Queens all detached themselves from their ovipositors as well. None of the observers were able to anticipate the peril, until the attack was already underway.

Conscious nearly from conception, the parasitoids recalled the direction from which they had been placed into their captivity. In short, they knew where the observers had to be. As the bird hybrid passed in front of the wall that separated exobiology from the bay, the Alien Queen, whose cage was situated directly across from that position, performed a seemingly impossible leap and collided with the hybrid in midair, splattering its acid all over the retaining wall. Since the bay was located inside a compartmentalized series of ramparts, each of which opened on outer space, explosive decompression was almost immediate.

The force of the evacuating atmosphere pulled each of the Alien Queens out of its respective cage, where inadvertent contact with the electrified floor only infuriated them further. And since they were all being pulled towards the highly localized perforations, it was inevitable that more conflict would caustically occur. In mere moments, eruptions of additional acid were splattered upon the already compromised partitions.

In order to seal off the air loss and repressurize, the first layer of bulkheads beyond the walls needed to slide down and forwards, and then lock into place against those that had already been breached. The first layer that reinforced the floor was designed to slide out and up. The containment area was built into the bottom backside of the ship, making it possible for such down and out adjustments. The lateral movements were supposed to make it possible for the first reinforcing layer to function even if it had also suffered some damage. There was a fixed superstructure upon which the entire assembly was situated. This superstructure incorporated the mechanization that mobilized the sliding bulkheads and made it possible to pass food, water, and other items into the containment area.

Turning to Sangria, Tan said, "I think they've had enough. Seal off and repressurize before they've burned through more than the first set of baffles."

Sangria tried to comply, but the bulkheads slid only slightly before the screams of an overexerted engine made it clear there was a problem. It was as if the sliding plates had encountered an obstruction. Since the areas into which they slid were nothing more than open space outside the ship, there should have been no possible way for this to happen. The system had been tested painstakingly and repeatedly and had never revealed such a problem. So far as Tan knew, the malfunction they were experiencing could not occur.

"What's wrong?" he emotionally demanded.

"I don't know," Sangria responded, sounding desperate. "It's almost like something's blocking the bulkheads."

"That can't happen," Eleanor resolutely objected, moving alongside the Artificial and looking with anxious incredulity at the clearly lit failure indicator on the control panel.

Glancing back at the situation in the containment area, they saw that the other Alien Queens had singled out and slaughtered the fish hybrid. The release of all the additional acid had caused a sizable gash to open in the bottom side of their spacious pen. And the overheating of the engine, which should have simply slid the plates into their new places, had interrupted the electricity flowing into the floor. Demonstrating their renowned facility for squeezing into areas that would seem inaccessible for something of such substantial size, the Alien Queens folded their formidable frames to compensate for the constriction and disappeared into the aperture.

Shouldering her way in front of the control panel with such force that she nearly sent Sangria sprawling, Eleanor used her open palm to strike the large red knob and activate the alarm she had hoped to never hear. As it shrieked in response, she put the intercom switch in the send position.

"Containment has been breached!" she rasped into the microphone. "The Aliens are outside the ship! Evacuate all areas around exobiology! Divert any incoming shuttles and lock down the bays!"

"How long can they survive exposure to space?" Sangria asked.

"We are about to find out the answer to that question," Eleanor replied. "The survivor of the Nostromo claimed that the one she blew out of her shuttle's airlock actually tried to get back inside the ship through a rocket tube, and she only finally got rid of it by igniting the engines."

"You've got to be kidding me," Tan disbelievingly blurted. "Nothing can survive in the vacuum of space for more than a few seconds."

"Not unless it was somehow engineered to do so," Eleanor coldly countered.

Any additional discussion was rudely interrupted by a very disturbing sound. Motion could be heard just beyond the bulkhead to their right. Even though it had not been used since the parasitoids were transferred into the containment area, there was nevertheless an airlock in that wall. It had been retracted from its connection to the containment area, so it opened on the vacuum of space by which the prison was surrounded. The purpose was to prevent any accidental access by the captive creatures. Nobody could have ever imagined that its exposure to that vacuous environment would actually afford the precise opportunity they had been trying so hard to prevent.

"It's in the airlock," Sangria alarmingly announced.

"No way," Tan very resolutely replied. "It couldn't possibly figure out how to operate the outer door."

But the telltale hiss of its operation betrayed the terrible truth of her assertion as she sadly said, "The airlock is cycling. It'll be on top of us in moments. Stay behind me. I'll try to protect you, even though we have no real weapons."

_Without warning, my every nightmare has somehow just forced itself into the waking world. I'm about to be face to face with an Alien Queen, the most dreaded creature in the galaxy. And if it can operate the airlock, it can ostensibly get to the eggs. Grandmother, I think I'm about to join you in the most terrible death imaginable._

The airlock cycled. The Alien Queen emerged. As bravely as only an Artificial could, Sangria charged her soaring adversary. Spinning, she scarcely avoided the thrust of the spear-tipped tail, kicking it as it swept by, trying to throw the beast off balance. Spinning again, this time in the air as she back-flipped over the grasping claw, she delivered what would have been a lethal blow to anything less formidable. But it failed to do so much as break the skin on the side of the monster's horrible head. And unable to alter her landing location, there was no way for her to avoid being struck by the other claw. She bounced off the bulkhead, with a resounding thud, to collapse in a motionless heap on the floor.

Eleanor had only a moment to consider her options, but there was no opportunity to follow through. She and Tan, who was standing beside her, were both unceremoniously shoved out of the way by an irresistible force that unexpectedly came from behind them.

To her, it seemed as if the floor had risen up and hit her in the side of the head. She could make no sense of her surroundings until she discovered that Sangria, holding Tan under her other arm, was desperately dragging the two of them toward the locker where the frozen fossils were kept. From her exceptionally disadvantaged perspective, Eleanor could not see what was behind them; but she could hear the telltale sound of acid eating its way through the floor of the exobiology lab. Its smell was assaulting all that was left of her sensibilities.

As she gained the entry to the freezer's airlock, Sangria said, "I need you both to put on environmental suits. Exobiology could lose its atmosphere at any moment."

Since Eleanor was injured, it was necessary for Sangria to extend assistance only to her; although the exobiologist got the impression that the Artificial really wanted to assist Tan. With the suits finally fastened, Sangria inexpertly propelled the pair into the freezing confines of the chamber beyond.

Turning and looking over the shoulder of their implausible savior, but seeing no sign of pursuit, Eleanor asked, "Where is she?"

"If you're referring to the Alien Queen, she's been diced into caustic cubes," Sangria answered. "All that remains of her is either several decks below us or maybe outside the ship by now."

"Diced into caustic cubes?" Tan incredulously echoed while Eleanor stood there with her mouth hanging open. "How?"

"I'm sorry. I was only able to detect a brief distortion in the spectral field, although I'd swear I caught a glimpse of something that looked like a metal blade," Sangria hesitantly said. "The Alien Queen was disappearing in pieces through the floor before I understood what was happening."

Suddenly switching subjects, Tan sounded close to tears as he sorrowfully admitted, "I thought you'd been killed."

"I was briefly in a state that you would call unconsciousness," Sangria smilingly said in reply. "Basically, I had to reboot."

"Where's the thing that killed the Alien Queen?" Eleanor asked, edging her way into their conversation.

"I don't know," Sangria said, sounding apprehensive. "I don't even know why it didn't challenge me when I went to rescue you. It must've been inside the lab with us the entire time, so I doubt if it's gone very far."

Electing to use the intercom, since her com-link was with her inside the suit, Eleanor said, "The Alien Queen in exobiology has been neutralized, but the lab has probably lost pressure. We're in the freezer unit and we're awaiting rescue."

"Copy that," said a voice that she recognized as Stanford's. "I've confirmed your loss of pressure, which also affected every deck below yours. Your evacuation order saved a lot of lives. Be advised that the environmental suits weren't designed to endure complete depressurization. Stay where you are. Colin is on his way to you with a rescue team right now."

"Understood, thanks," Eleanor politely replied. She then asked, "Have you been able to track the other Alien Queens?"

"They're gone," Stanford answered. "Some of the Artificials were up here. They went out in shuttles to intercept them. All they found were some etchings on the outer hall. We assume they were trying to burn their way back in with their acid, but they didn't manage to even pierce the hull of the ship. And the Artificials can find no trace of what happened to them. Hell, it's like they all just disappeared."

"Copy that, thanks again," Eleanor replied as she signed off. Turning to Sangria, she asked, "Can you calculate any probabilities with regards to this new predator? Where did it come from? What's it doing here?"

"It must somehow be associated with the Architects," she cautiously responded, "but without additional information I simply cannot expect to successfully collate a projection."

Their environmental suits were having trouble keeping out the cold by the time Colin and his repair team finally reached the freezer a couple of hours later. The unexplainable absence of the Alien Queens had been established by an extensive ship-wide search, of which he informed them; and then, despite the fact that they knew Emilio was impatiently waiting for him to shed light on the cause of the malfunction with which the fiasco began, Colin took the time to escort Eleanor to the infirmary before starting his investigation.

Taking his leave of her there, he then had Duff take him outside the ship in a shuttle where he examined the assembly that surrounded exobiology's containment area. Once he had completed his inspection, he returned with his findings to the same meeting room where he had first met Eleanor. Emilio had ordered all the department heads together for the purpose of discussing their expensive misadventure.

"From what Tan tells me, and both Eleanor and Sangria support his story, the plates that are supposed to slide over and reconfigure the containment area wouldn't move," he said as Colin came walking in. "That assembly was extensively tested. And besides that, there's nothing outside that area of the ship to cause the kind of interference that they've described. What in the hell went wrong?"

Striding to the plasma screen that was situated across from the viewing portal, Colin accessed the shuttle's recording system and said, "Duff can confirm what you're about to see. The entire bottom of the mobile bulkhead looks like it did battle with a blowtorch. I'm unable to identify the energy that caused this kind of damage. It runs all along the end of the plate, which is itself as long as the containment bay. That being the case, whatever it was up against must've been immense, something at least the size of a small ship."

"You don't think we'd have noticed something tucked right up under us?" the captain incredulously asked. "We've got shuttles running back and forth all day long. That area is easily visible to every pilot on approach. I'd say it looks almost like we were fired on!"

"The melting isn't what caused the malfunction," Colin countered. "Once we finished our inspection, I had a member of the repair team try the control in exobiology. It worked. That bay is now sealed. Repairing the deck plates that were eaten through with acid was the hard part. I sent a sample of the damaged bulkhead to metallurgy. Perhaps they'll be able to tell us something useful. I can only assume their ship was as undetectable as the member of its crew in exobiology. As for where it's gone, I don't know. But I suspect they have the missing Alien Queens as well."

"The kind of cloaking technology you're talking about doesn't exit!" Emilio countered. "If it did, we'd be the ones selling it to the military!"

"Then what exactly is it that killed the Alien Queen in exobiology?" Jamul asked.

"It's one thing to camouflage a single soldier, especially in an area where everyone's attention is fixed on a particular place," Emilio answered. "But to obfuscate an entire ship to such an extent that it could sidle up alongside something with sensors as state-of-the-art as the Centaur's is insane! There must be a better explanation!"

"There is another player in this game," Poole definitively stated, seeming to Eleanor as if he almost relished the opportunity to contradict the director. "The evidence does not support any other conclusion. If we'd been fired on, we would've known it; and there's no way another ship could've even gotten close enough to attack us without the technology you're so eager to dismiss. Even if it'd used a rocket pack and entered through a shuttle bay, the alien assassin still infiltrated one of the most secure areas on the entire ship. It was absolutely invisible. Sangria downloaded her spectral records to the rest of us."

"We haven't lost everything," Tan interjected before Emilio could retaliate. "Since we now have cages full of eggs, we don't even really need the Alien Queens. We've already confirmed that exposure to space causes the formation of the force field that was described by the crewmember of the Nostromo. In fact, I'd like to request the opportunity to completely study it before we relinquish the eggs to the crew of the Somnambulist."

"The crew of what?" Marco asked.

_I apparently haven't pumped Tan for info often enough_.

"I've requested that one of our commercial towing vehicles be dispatched to haul the unreliable outboard bay back to the labs at corporate," Emilio evenly answered. "I am not going to take any more chances. The Centaur obviously has to stay here while Colin and his team complete the intergalactic prototype, and it'll also need to be on hand to monitor the test flight. But I need to know whether there's any way for us to possibly increase our scanning capacity and determine if your suspicions about invisible aliens are true."

_Good job of getting out of that one and back on subject. But I wonder just what type of insidious plans you have for the crew of that commercial towing vehicle. It sounds like history is attempting to repeat itself_.

"If we can assume their presence is verified, what would you hope to accomplish by establishing their exact location?" she pressed. And then, before he could even respond, she added, "Keep in mind that the one in exobiology actually saved lives, whether it was intentional or not. That's far from behaving in a way that could be considered hostile. But if we start trying to determine their precise position, we could make them feel threatened. And their technology is obviously beyond anything we have the ability to engage."

"Their interest in the Alien Queens might also imply an interest in the ship being built on LV-426," Emilio dismissively answered. "We need a way to determine whether they're present at its construction site; if not, then they probably won't interfere with its flight. We may even lose them when we transfer the bay, which is my hope. But if they are present, then we need to concern ourselves with trying to determine their intentions, especially if they stick around after the Somnambulist leaves with the bay."

"But shouldn't we be worried about the Somnambulist if they follow it?" she asked in reply.

"Didn't you just say their behavior is far from anything we could consider hostile?" he cunningly countered. "Moral relativism is quite unbecoming on you. Since it's attached to the Centaur by an assembly, the bay is actually part of the ship. But if that's what they're after, it'll be much more accessible when hauled behind the Somnambulist. If we have to lose those eggs, it's the only way to minimize any associated loss of life."

"Unless one of its crew makes the mortal mistake of checking on the cargo, in which case it will quickly become a death ship," she irately retorted.

"They'll be forbidden from have any contact with the cargo," Emilio sternly said. "The bay will remain sealed until it's opened in orbit at the corporate lab complex. Never again will the embryos enjoy an oxygenated atmosphere. And never again will anything except automation be used to examine them. If you should decide to accompany them, which is your prerogative, you need to know that you will only be allowed to study them from afar. Your greatest accomplishment as an exobiologist would probably be realized aboard the ship that's now under construction, and I'd planned to consign you to its crew; but taking into account how distrustful you are, perhaps you'd be happier headed towards home."

_If you're planning what I suspect for the crew of the Somnambulist; then, if I take the bait and go along, you could get rid of me in more ways than one. If I simply suffered the same fate as all my shipmates, my death would look much less questionable. I'll bet you have an Artificial on that ship that's probably already been reprogrammed to assist them in meeting their demise. But even if I'm right, how can I hope to stop you? That'd require an accomplice who's deeper in the loop than Tan._

"I'll stay with the Centaur until it's time to transfer a crew to the new ship," she finally answered. Fighting to keep her tone even, despite having just been lambasted in front of all her friends, she added, "I'm sure you're right. I'd be making a career-killing mistake to forfeit the opportunity you've offered me. I really didn't mean to imply any wrongdoing on your part. You know just how personally I take responsibility for everyone's safety where this project is concerned."

Emilio pursed his lips and nodded before curtly replying, "Okay then."

"I've certainly detected no traces of any other ship in close proximity to the Centaur," Stanford said, diplomatically stepping into the awkward silence that followed. "But if their instrumentality is mostly intended to hide them from scanners at close range, it might be defeated by high definition scans of the surrounding star field. Those scans might reveal some distortion. If I could work with Jamul on this, we might be able to come up a way to precisely pinpoint their ship."

"Excellent idea," Emilio agreed as he turned and nodded his approval at Jamul.

_And who would the director have gone through in order to transmit his instructions to the Somnambulist and its Artificial? Emilio, it's possible that you're going to deeply regret having engineered my association with Stanford. Since Colin now spends his work shifts off the ship, nobody will think twice if I start spending more time with the telemetry expert that I've known almost as long. And not only does the loss of the Alien Queens create an opening in my schedule, but_…

"Could Stanford also possibly spend some time in exobiology," she asked, turning to Emilio. "The fields around the eggs are actually a type of telemetry. His insights could be quite invaluable in helping us determine how they work."

From the way Stanford smiled, she could see how much he appreciated her helping to prove his importance to Emilio. This made her even more certain of his cooperation, if only she were extremely careful in how she phrased her questions and requests.

"I am sure he can work that into his schedule," the director replied, seeming pleased that she was now making creative suggestions to aid their effort instead of the very thinly concealed accusations he had come to expect from her. Raising a hand toward Colin, he said, "Now that he's reached a decision about the final configuration of our new ship, I've asked Colin if he would suggest a name with which to christen it. Since everyone helped, I'm going to allow you all to vote. If it's not accepted, we'll look for other suggestions."

"I wanted something that suggested flight," Colin explained, "but something that also spoke to the idea of a hybrid. I finally found an animal from ancient mythology that I think comes close enough for the purpose. I propose that we name this new intergalactic ship the Griffin."

Eleanor applauded. Others began joining in after only a few seconds. Ultimately, the confirmation was unanimous. Colin grinned with gratitude.

Emilio patiently waited for the celebration to subside before saying, "What about any intruders on the Centaur or around the Griffin? Can we perhaps come up with some way to at least detect them, even if we can't derive an image that actually resolves?"

Glancing at Poole, who nodded, Marco replied, "We'll see what we can do."

Poole added, "Once we understand how to use the Griffin's sensors, we might have a tool that their technology can't defeat. In the meantime, we'll look for other options."

"This might seem like semantics," Kalinda interjected, "but I think we need one other name. We've ascribed the scientific designation of parasitoids to the aliens, even though we still refer to the Alien Queens. And the beings responsible for building the derelict are now most commonly called the Architects. But we need a name for these new aliens, so we can keep things straight."

"Since they move about so subversively," Poole replied, "and are apparently able to kill even Alien Queens, perhaps we should simply call them the Predators."

"That's real pretty, Poole," Emilio replied, smiling dryly. "But I guess it'll have to do."

Eleanor had observed what appeared to be a growing amount of animosity between the leader of the androids and the director. In fact, it surprisingly seemed secondary only to the enmity she experienced in her association. Even though it inspired her to be more trustful of the Artificials, it nevertheless left her incredulous. Such an emotional response from an Artificial seemed as altogether unlikely as Sangria's obvious attachment to Tan.

"We lost two people due to the explosive decompression and one other is now in the infirmary in critical condition, although I expect him to pull through," said Kalinda, offering the update. Looking to Eleanor, she echoed Stanford's earlier statement by saying, "You saved some lives by ordering that evacuation. Due to the fact that most everybody's shift had already ended, there weren't that many people left in those sections or they wouldn't have gotten out in time."

"And I appreciate that you've all worked way past the scheduled end of your shifts in order to respond to this emergency," Emilio added. "Please take the first half of your next shift off and get yourselves some well earned rest. And if any of you need to eat before you turn in, just meet me in the mess hall. One more meal before bedtime; I'm buying."

Almost everyone followed Emilio out of the room. Eleanor and Colin lingered. Jamul and Suki fell in behind the others, but turned in a different direction as the group reached the first junction in the adjacent corridor. The concern in his eyes was very easily evident as Colin turned and warmly regarded Eleanor.

"Are you really okay?" he emphatically asked.

"Kalinda cleared me to return to duty," she appreciatively replied, "but I have quite a headache."

"I'd offer to trade pillows, but I suppose there's no point," he smilingly said.

"Just keep extending the offer," she jokingly replied. "Maybe such an opportunity will eventually arise."

"I understand your desire not to dine with the director," he said. "But if you're hungry, I have some high-protein snacks in my quarters. And I have a variety of drinks, both with and without caffeine."

"That sounds wonderful," she answered, smiling.

As they strolled out of the meeting room, he turned to her and observed, "We might be able to catch up with Jamul and Suki this time. They can't have gotten very far ahead of us, if you think you're up to it."

Although they elected to divert down the same passageway that the aforementioned pair had used, she was about to gracefully decline when they unexpectedly encountered Poole. It appeared as if the android leader had actually been waiting for them. He moved away from the wall, against which he had been reclining, as they came into view.

"I hope you don't mind me taking this opportunity," he apologetically said, "but I have spent so much time plugged into alien technology that I haven't had a chance to make a proper report to either of you."

"It's okay, but do you mind walking with us?" Eleanor asked in reply, as Colin waited for her to field the android's request. "I'm famished, and we're on our way to his quarters for a bite before bed."

"I'd be happy to tag along," Poole replied, using an archaic expression that surprised the pair. It made him suddenly seem so authentically human.

"How did you know where to wait for us?" she asked, tackling that aspect instead.

"After the way Director Esperanza spoke to you, I don't think I'd want to eat with him either," Poole replied, "even at his expense."

"I'm not sure you were really treated much better," she honestly observed. "I've seen what appears to be animosity in his attitude toward you."

"Yes, but at least he's consistent," Poole replied, seriously surprising them this time.

"Why do you think that is?" Colin inquired when Eleanor was too astounded to frame the follow-up.

"Do you want honesty or etiquette?" Poole asked in reply. "I don't have any answers that allow for both."

"Let's go for honesty," Eleanor took the occasion to answer. "I'm afraid it's becoming an increasingly rare commodity around here."

"He treats me as he does because he can," Poole replied. By way of explanation, he then said, "In his dealings with Organics, he must somewhat modify his behavior in order to obtain the desired results. He simply treats me the way he would treat everyone if that were not true."

Eleanor and Colin walked along in stunned silence for several seconds, before Colin finally said, "Yup, that's an honest answer."

"Okay, that's enough small talk," Eleanor authoritatively interjected, desperate at this point to change the subject. "Did you say you had something you needed the opportunity to report?"

"I've made some progress in deciphering the Architects' system," Poole replied. "I've found that they use an extremely sophisticated form of biometrics in interacting with their technology. Eventually, I'll be able to use this information to access their flight recorder."

"Then you believe you will be able to effectively fly the Griffin once it's finished?" she asked.

"I see no reason to assume otherwise," the surprisingly adroit android circumspectly replied.

"Anything else?" she ultimately asked after several more seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"I would appreciate your secrecy concerning this other item, since I've yet to decode the entries enough to know what it might mean," Poole replied. "I think I may've detected an aberrant interface. It lacks the typical biometric coding and it also looks as if it was an isolated event."

"What would that mean?" asked Colin, suddenly sounding like a scientist again.

"It has certain characteristics I've come to associate with a change of course," Poole responded. "But it's too early to say anything with certainty. I will continue my efforts and let you know what I find."

"Are you really as optimistic about finding some way to detect this new race of aliens as you somehow managed to sound in the meeting room?" Eleanor suspiciously asked.

"Guardedly," the android answered.

"Do you believe the Predators may've been invisibly observing all our efforts on LV-426," Colin asked.

"I wish I knew," Poole replied, sounding unexpectedly sincere. "All they'd have to do to irreparably interrupt this undertaking is eliminate me and my team. We are in far more immediate danger than anyone else, or had you even considered that?"

The couple was temporarily rendered speechless, but Eleanor eventually answered, "I'm sorry, I guess we've been too concerned about our own skins to think about the type of tactics that an adversary could use against us. But we're not like Emilio. We genuinely care about you and your team. Is there anything at all we can do to possible improve the situation to safeguard you and your people?"

"I know you do and not immediately," he smilingly said, appearing to truly appreciate the sentiment being expressed. "But the first step in avoiding danger is the recognition of its existence. And I suspect that the subspace shockwaves, which resulted each time we added another section to the ship, would've revealed any invisible observers nearby. But we've nearly finished the Griffin, so I can only hope the technology of the spaceship itself will now serve to diminish the danger."

Poole paused as they reached an intersection where one of the hallways led toward the nearby shuttle bay; and Eleanor, realizing that the android had indeed accomplished his agenda with regards to them, said, "Be safe and keep in touch."

"Thank you. I will," he grinningly replied. "But if it's alright with you, I'd prefer to make my reports in person."

With that, the Artificial turned and strode down the perpendicular passageway. Colin and Eleanor continued toward his cabin. The hallways were relatively empty and she left him alone with his thoughts for a few minutes.

As they were just outside his quarters, she finally asked, "What's on your mind?"

"I've been considering the overwhelming amount of unknowns with which we're now dealing," he distractedly answered.

"There certainly are enough of them," she agreed. "But the one that's foremost in my mind is the question of how I can use my friendship with Stanford to save the crew of the Somnambulist."

**Chapter 7**

_**A Change of Fortune**_

Because all the department heads had been called upon to meet in the aftermath of the emergency, Marco had spent a sleep-shift aboard the Centaur. Thus he was there to breakfast with Eleanor and Colin. He was reclining at one of their customary tables in the back of one of the corners of the mess hall with Jamul and Suki, though she was actually taking a lunch break. After assembling their selections on their trays, they were surprised when the cashier politely told them that the director had left instructions for their meals to be placed against his account. They both smiled, despite being somewhat embarrassed, and then headed off to join their friends.

Skirting any attempt at small talk as she was sitting down, Eleanor looked at Marco and asked, "As far as you are aware, has any Artificial ever mastered the art of sarcastic humor?"

"Are you going to try and sell me some swampland on Mars?" Marco jokingly asked in reply.

"While most of you were having a late dinner with our darling director, we had some extremely interesting wordplay with Poole," she said, "and I'd say we were both seriously out of our depth."

When Marco seemed momentarily at a loss for words, Colin interjected, "Aside from an expertise with human sentiments and expressions, he demonstrated a level of insight that was altogether astounding. He's been hooked up to the alien technology longer than any of his associates, although even they are also showing signs of increased sentience. I think it's time to admit that something outside our understanding is happening to them."

When it looked to her like Marco was attempting to phrase some refutation, Eleanor added, "I don't think she's merely imitating our geneticist's affections; I believe Sangria is genuinely in love with Tan. I saw how she responded in the emergency. My injury forced her to give me preferential treatment. But she wanted to give it to Tan, who was not hurt. I'm certain of it."

"I am not going to insult anyone by dismissing the anomalous mannerisms we've all noticed in them of late," Marco defensively said. "However, I've run full scans on each of them and I can't detect so much as the suggestion of anything amiss. Consequently, I've no idea how to account for these aberrations. I'm sorry; I just don't have an explanation."

"But by your own acknowledgment, you've only searched inside their manufactured forms," Jamul surprised everyone by interjecting. "Perhaps that isn't where the alteration is occurring."

"Whatever do you mean?" Marco demanded, still sounding defensive.

"The Griffin apparently interacts with the continuum," Jamul replied. "In other words, it extends beyond itself and therefore exceeds the sum of its parts; which is the essence of sentience, or so some might insist. The quantum resonations could be creating a type of field around them that's beyond our ability to detect. And this field could be the source of their increased consciousness. There are dimensions beyond our measurements."

"Beyond being a rather farfetched conjecture, though admittedly highly imaginative," Marco replied, trying to soften his rebuttal, "I find that it contains a fundamental flaw. You all have had experience with various types of information technology, and you know how upgrades work. You can only improve a system just so far before it essentially becomes a different system, to which the system from which it was derived then becomes foreign. The upgrades you can then apply to this new system are not supported by its precursor, even though its operation is actually based on essentially the same technology."

"What about the fibers?" Colin asked, sounding unconvinced.

"The neuro-fibers in the Griffin are similar to the fiber optics in the Artificials only by the most existential of extrapolations," Marco maintained. "And it's only by our incredibly good fortune that they can interface with so foreign a system. Jamul's hypothesis comes very close to presupposing that they're both somehow derived from the same source, so much so that the more advanced system is capable of compensating for the inadequacy of the antiquated system and upgrading it anyway. That's way past parallel technology."

"Wait a sec. The coffee hasn't kicked in yet," Eleanor interrupted with a wave of her hand. Smiling warmly at Marco, she then continued, "I just want to be sure I understand. You're saying that, in order for Jamul's explanation to work, the Artificials would have to be a stepping stone on the way to the technology that ultimately becomes the derelict?"

"Yeah, I guess that's about the size of it," Marco agreed. "And that thrusts it into the realm of the ridiculous, don't you think?"

As she exchanged a glance with Suki, she noted the concerned expression that was easily evident on her assistant's face, as Eleanor replied, "I'm not so sure."

"Even though they're superior in stature, which is also completely consistent with the trend in humanity's development, the Architects have exactly the same anatomical ratios as we do," Suki explained. "This is why the human hybrid was indistinguishable from her cellmates, although they were apparently Architect hybrids. And since they disappeared, we have nothing against which to genetically compare the one killed by the Predator. It's possible that this was actually part of their intent, although we may never know for sure."

"Interestingly, the human hybrid was also able to assume the position of dominance in the group. And this was despite being the youngest," Eleanor added.

"And we are assuming the technology of the Architects allows them to travel through time!" Colin suddenly exclaimed. Turning to Eleanor, he intensely asked, "Just where are you going with this?"

"Nowhere in particular," she replied with a shrug. Turning back to Marco, she added, "I was just rehearsing all the information for those who haven't been around much lately. That's all."

"If some kind of ineffable energy field does exist around the Artificials, how could we detect it?" Marco asked.

"Maybe it would interact with the one that surrounds the eggs," Suki suggested.

Since he was supposed to assist in investigating the very phenomenon she had just mentioned, it was almost as if Stanford came strolling into the mess hall on cue. Noticing his assembled associates, he waved. After filling his tray, he quickly moved to join them.

Seeing an unexpected opportunity as he was sitting down, Eleanor politely waited to catch his eye before asking, "Do you happen to know whether the Somnambulist has an Artificial onboard?"

"I think that's pretty much standard procedure even on a ship that small," he replied. He then paused and asked, "Why?"

Even though she saw nothing to indicate that he had been involved in the relaying of deadly instructions to such a synthetic individual, she knew all too well that he was being mentored by a master of deception. If indeed Emilio intended to use those crewmembers as hosts, she could only hope Stanford had simply facilitated the transmission without an actual understanding of the director's dark agenda.

"We were just discussing the increasingly odd behavior of our friends, the Artificials," she replied. "Jamul proposed a possible reason, and Suki suggested a way to test it. But it would probably be to our advantage if we had an unaffected individual who could serve as the standard against which to measure the others."

"That's a very good idea," Marco agreed as the others around the table all nodded.

"It doesn't sound difficult or time-consuming," Stanford enigmatically answered. "And that's a good thing since it'll keep you out of the conflict between Emilio and the captain."

"They're fighting over the additional Artificial?" Eleanor incredulously inquired as she tried very hard to keep the excitement out of her voice. "Why?"

"Since only the Artificials can operate the Griffin, Emilio wants of all them transferred over to it," answered Stanford. "Captain Kaminski has not been happy since Emilio made him aware of the decision. Because of the Centaur's size and its crew compliment when compared to that of the Somnambulist, he's now insisting that their Artificial should serve in place of the eight he's losing. Emilio wants the Artificial to stay aboard the tug to make sure its cargo gets safely to the labs at corporate. But I can see Kaminski's point. It's just a straight shot back for them, and he's still out here on assignment with no set itinerary."

"Aren't there any alternatives?" Colin inquired.

"I suggested that we petition for a military escort," Stanford sounded embarrassed to admit. "That would provide much more security for the Somnambulist than could a single Artificial."

"What happened?" Eleanor asked.

"The director blew up at me," he replied. "I've never seen him so angry. I guess he's not ready yet for the military to know what we found out here."

_Or he knows just how much more difficult it's going to be to pass off the death of the crew as an accident if there are observers in the immediate area. I have to persuade the department heads to side with Kaminski, no matter how ugly Emilio gets over it._

"Some of us at this table have been tagged to eventually transfer to the Griffin when the time comes, but not all of us," she cautiously observed. "And I'd sure feel a lot better about leaving my friends onboard if I knew there was an Artificial here to look after them. At the risk of further endangering my reputation with the director, I really think we should side with the captain and insist on the transfer of the Somnambulist's Artificial."

"I understand what you're saying. I really do. But don't you think that's just a little too assertive?" Marco asked.

"This mission was a calculated risk that didn't stand much chance of success," Colin countered, coming on cue to Eleanor's defense. "However, we now have over a hundred parasitoid eggs that will soon be on their way back to the corporate labs and we're close to completing an intergalactic ship. So far, we haven't asked for anything. I don't think it's too much of a concession to insist that the team members, for whom we are immediately responsible, are cared for according to an established company policy in our absence."

"I'm with you," said Kalinda, who had overheard their discussion while she was filling her food tray and now came walking over to their table. "Emilio has to listen to reason."

"When is the Somnambulist supposed to arrive, and how long will we have before it leaves?" asked Eleanor, addressing her question to Stanford.

"It should be here by the end of the shift," he hesitantly answered. "And the eggs are supposed to stay here until you and Tan, as he requested, have completed your study of the energy field around them. Look, I fully understand that you're all concerned about the shipmates you'll be leaving behind when the Griffin makes its maiden voyage. I really do. But I can't be part of this, not directly. I'll provide you with whatever information I can and of course you will have access to my telemetry skills; but I can't confront the director with you, and I won't sign anything to support your position. I hope you understand."

"Since you aren't a department head, it'd be useless for you to participate directly in our little insurrection," she reassuringly answered. "Your greatest assistance to us would be behind the scenes anyway. Don't worry. You're not sacrificing our friendship."

When she saw how visibly relieved Stanford was by so reassuring a reply, she knew there was no way it could have possibly been simple pretense. Despite the doubtfulness of their situation, she was suddenly certain that at least his friendship was not feigned.

"I'll take point on this," Kalinda abruptly announced. "He actually is trying to violate a safety policy of which I'm not only aware, but I served on the board that approved it. Add to that the fact that I'll be the person responsible for the well being of the crew he leaves on this ship. I'll present the formal complaint. The rest of you only need to back me up."

"What are you going to say?" Suki nervously asked.

"Even though the percentage of Organics to Artificials is merely a recommendation," she replied, "company policy now clearly states that there has to be at least one Artificial on each ship when underway. I would sign off on an exception for the Somnambulist due to the small size of its crew and the directness of its return route. But something the size of the Centaur requires at least one Artificial aboard. He'll either have to transfer the one from the Somnambulist to the Centaur, or he'll have to decrease the number of Artificials aboard the Griffin by no less than one."

_If he goes for that last option, it won't help the crew of the Somnambulist. There has to be some way to reinforce the idea of sending it home without an Artificial onboard._

"And exactly how many Artificials does that policy recommend for a ship the size of the Centaur?" Eleanor asked.

"All of the eight he means to commandeer," Kalinda replied. "Since we didn't want to place such restrictions on long-range shuttles, we allowed for exceptions where the crew of the ship was half a dozen people or less. With no Artificial onboard, the Somnambulist would actually meet that requirement."

"Emilio will want to know how you found out about his plan when the tug hasn't even arrived yet," Stanford nervously suggested. "What are you going to say?"

"I'm friends with the captain," Kalinda replied, smiling. "If I just happen to stop by, I'm sure he'll make his complaint to me. Then we can just round up all the department heads and go see Emilio together. There'd be no reason for us to even mention your name."

"Thank you," Stanford said, bowing his head and breathing an audible sigh of relief.

"If you need me, I'll just jump on a shuttle and come back," Colin said. "But right now I guess Marco and I'd better get down to the Griffin and see how things are going there."

"I'll let you now," Kalinda answered, pausing between bites to do so.

As Marco and Colin got up and left for the shuttle bay, Jamul and Suki also excused themselves. Turning to Stanford, who had tried to avoid the conversation by being busily engaged in eating, Eleanor said, "If you're about finished with that, perhaps you'd care to join me in exobiology for a look at that force field. If Sangria's still there, as I suspect, we might even be able to test Suki's suggestion."

"I don't know if I'm really done with it or not, but I think it's done with me," he replied, indicating disgust as he pushed the tray away. "Let's go."

Tan and Sangria were both in exobiology. Eleanor and Stanford arrived right behind Suki. Understanding their intent, as she glanced over her shoulder to see who had come through the doorway behind her, she adjusted her trajectory and also moved towards the seemingly mismatched pair. Noticing the movements and looking up from the equipment they were using, it did not escape Eleanor's attention that they both looked very happy to see her. She recalled her performance under pressure during her last visit to exobiology.

"Stanford's going to help us figure out that field," she said, "unless there've been any breakthroughs I haven't heard about yet. And I was also wondering if you would help me with an experiment, Sangria," Eleanor said.

"I'd love to," she replied with what certainly sounded like real conviction.

"What have you got so far?" asked Stanford as he slid in between Sangria and Tan.

"Our probes of the field have only revealed an electrostatic charge," Sangria replied. "But we haven't succeeded in measuring its strength. We believe it fluctuates or pulsates almost like alternating current."

"That's pretty sophisticated for something that's supposedly biometric," Suki said.

"Does it react to the probe?" Stanford asked as he took the controls and prepared to send the sensor array through the enigmatic energy field himself.

"That's the really weird thing," Tan responded. "No, it doesn't. And yet, its purpose is apparently to detect the presence of a possible host."

"Sangria, have you been inside the chamber yourself?" Eleanor asked.

"No," she replied, seeming intrigued. "Are you suggesting that I should see if I could elicit a response?"

"Sounds risky," Tan interjected.

"Are the suppression systems still operational?" Eleanor asked. When he tentatively nodded, she consolingly said, "It'll take some time for any of the eggs to open. Between Sangria's superhuman speed and our cryogenic spray, she should be in no danger."

Watching the indicators, Stanford became increasingly animated as he said, "I don't see how an energy field could seem strongest at its boundary and weakest around what has to be its source. Wait a minute. They have to be using the cryogenic environment of space. This is the kind of effect we see in magnetic impermeability. That's why exposure to the void triggers them to respond this way. They're not simply in hypersleep. They are actually using their super-cooled condition to set a trap. I'm fluctuatingly freaked out!"

"I wondered about the smell," Suki said. "But if the field is like a bubble of super-fluid or a cryogenically suspended magnetic field, why doesn't it react to the metal probe?"

"And doesn't that mean our spray would be useless against the face-huggers?" Tan apprehensively added.

"Maybe, but you can still electrify the floor behind me as I retreat if there is any type of response," Sangria said. "I'm still willing to try. We're not exactly making any progress here."

"I admire your spirit," Eleanor said, before she could even consider the irony of such an observation. Turning swiftly to Stanford, she asked, "Are you having any luck?"

"No, but I'm in the perfect position to monitor the field for any interaction," he replied. "So if you want to do this, now's the time."

With a look that was unmistakably meant to reassure Tan, Sangria turned away and moved towards the airlock. The recycling chamber could now only be accessed by using an extremely complex code, of which she was aware. With a speed that was beyond the abilities of the observers, she quickly tapped it into the keypad and then stepped into the opening enclosure. A few moments later, after the airlock completely depressurized, she entered an environment that would have been swiftly fatal to her friends.

"Just take it nice and easy," Tan nervously said into the microphone. "I've swung the sprayer around just in case. The pressure should deflect them if they try to jump on you."

"I didn't think they'd be able to impregnate an Artificial," Suki said after making sure her microphone was engaged.

"I don't think so either. I always assumed that Artificials would be immune," Eleanor agreed. "But if they were to mistake her for a valid host, they still might use their acid on her when they're disappointed. And she's certainly not immune to that."

"Thank you for that," Tan ungraciously grumbled. "Okay all you people, quiet down. She's approaching the field."

Everyone saw how Sangria paused to make sure Tan and Stanford were set before saying, "I'm at the outer boundary. I'm going to try just sticking my hand through the field to see if there's any reaction. Here we go."

Despite all the anticipation, the interaction failed to produce a response. She turned her hand over in the field's edge and even moved it around in circles, but no fluctuations were recorded by any of Stanford's equipment nor could any changes be detected in the disposition of the bay's darkling denizens. After several moments of what seemed to the spectators like psychological preparation, Sangria stepped fully inside the field.

Looking over Stanford's shoulder at the absolute absence of any response, Eleanor said, "The crewmember from the Nostromo said the field around the eggs reacted when broken. I'm not seeing any indication of that."

"Because there isn't any," Stanford explained. "I don't know how it could possibly be designed to respond only to something organic, but apparently that's the case."

"You're done Sangria," Tan said with relief, speaking into the microphone. "Come on out of there."

Sangria's expression slowly transmuted into one that seemed to impossibly suggest exasperation. It was as if she were infuriated by having overcome her apprehension only to be so completely dissatisfied by the outcome. Responding in almost the same illogical manner that a human might have in such a situation, she turned to the nearest alien egg and gave it a swift kick.

There was a reaction, but it was not one they had expected. It did not come from the egg which simply maintained its indomitable dormancy. Three radiant points of blood red light abruptly appeared near the center of Sangria's chest. Tracking them to their source, everyone was stunned to see a spectrum-like shimmer in the furthest back corner of the bay.

"One of the Predators is in there with her!" Eleanor gasped.

"Sangria, are you armed?" Tan tensely rasped. As she slowly shook her head from side to side, he said, "Then don't provoke it. Keep your hands away from your body and back out of there by the most direct route."

As she stepped back beyond the boundary of the mystifying field of force, the points of light disappeared. She then turned and sprinted with superhuman speed back into the comparative security of the airlock, which she quickly closed behind herself. She swiftly keyed in the code and cycled the airlock.

As she rounded the corner and reentered exobiology proper, she asked, "Is it still in there?"

"We think so," Stanford answered. "At least I'm sure it didn't reach the airlock before you closed the door. It's moved and I'm unable to locate its present position. But it has to still be in the bay. This is my big chance to see if I can figure out a way to scan for them. I hope you guys don't mind me hanging out here for awhile."

"Knock yourself out," Sangria answered, utilizing her newfound penchant for ancient colloquialisms. To reinforce the humor in her suggestion, she indicated the indentation in the wall behind herself and added, "I already did."

The rest of the shift passed without further incident, except that all the while Eleanor was anticipating with decided trepidation the imminent arrival of the Somnambulist.

It was right after the end of the shift, as Stanford had estimated, that Mage McGuire, Captain of the commercial towing vehicle, Somnambulist, asked for permission to couple alongside the Centaur. With her were First Officer Garrett Guthrie, Yuri Yamato, Quentin Quaid, Brea Burdette, Jerome Jeffries, and an Artificial named Banks. All the department heads, and even some of their assistants, were mustered to welcome aboard the crew of the tug.

Since Captain Kaminski and Chief Medical Officer Dubois entered the reception hall with Emilio between them, Eleanor assumed that the anticipated confrontation had either already happened or was actually still underway. She wondered if the department heads would be asked to remain while their assistants and the crew of the Somnambulist were all dismissed. She was not looking forward to whatever might follow, although lives were quite possibly hanging in the balance.

Despite her dread concerning the aftermath, the reception went quite well. She was impressed by the individuals for whose safety she harbored so much worry. This helped her rededicate herself to their rescue. In fact, by the end of the evening she was actually anxious to know what Emilio would do to resolve the situation. She knew it was possible that his solution would leave a reprogrammed android onboard the Somnambulist. Even though she had spent most of her half-shift in exobiology trying to devise a backup plan, she still had no idea how she would thwart the director if he satisfied Kalinda's concerns by only transferring seven Artificials to the Griffin.

As the festivities were finally coming to a conclusion, Emilio explained to the visitors that some research would have to be wrapped up before he could release the cargo into their care. As they were falling out to follow an escort to their temporary quarters aboard the Centaur, and as Eleanor had expected, Emilio requested the department heads and anyone else who wanted to do so to remain. Suki, Stanford, and Tan also stayed.

"Apparently I was overly eager in my selection for the crew of the Griffin," he began. "Others helped me see the error of my ways. The obvious answer is to transfer one less Artificial from the Centaur."

"A crew of six doesn't really require an Artificial," Eleanor cautiously observed. "You could stay with your original plan and simply keep the one from the Somnambulist for the Centaur."

"Even though I'm not sure they'd understand me taking an action that would seem to minimize the importance of their part in the mission, I suppose I could choose to do that," he replied. But then, he asked, "Do we have any reason to think they might actually need their Artificial?"

On cue, Stanford said, "There's a Predator in the bay with the alien eggs."

Eleanor had been hoping that Stanford had not yet made a report to Emilio, since he had not yet been successful in finding a way to detect the intruders. To her, the fluidity of their exchange clearly indicated otherwise.

"In that case, I think we'd better let them keep their Artificial," Emilio very predictably replied. "I'll just leave one of ours aboard the Centaur."

"Which one?" Tan abruptly asked.

"Since she's spent the least amount of time on the Griffin," Emilio replied, "I suppose it should be Sangria."

"Could you please send Suki in my place?" Tan unexpectedly asked. "Eleanor really needs an assistant much more than she needs me."

_The situation has gone from bad to worse. I've not only entirely failed in my attempt to remove the Artificial from the Somnambulist, but the director's solution is now actually endangering the weird relationship between the geneticist and his Artificial assistance_.

"I can't believe you're passing up an opportunity to go gallivanting around the galaxy with us," said Emilio with a furrowed frown. "Maybe Kalinda should've checked you out."

"I'll submit to an evaluation if you insist, but the request stands," Tan very resolutely stated.

"With Sangria off the ship, there's room for one more anyway," Emilio replied. "I was already planning on extending the opportunity to Suki. I'll have to consider your request."

"Thanks very much, Director Esperanza," said Suki, with genuine gratitude. She was apparently the only one who found anything affirmative at all in the entire exchange.

"You're welcome," he replied. Turning to Stanford, he then asked, "Are you the least bit optimistic about comprehending the force field around the eggs or devising some way to penetrate the invisibility of the Predators?"

"Not really," Stanford admitted, with honest embarrassment.

Eleanor had the impression that this part of the discussion had also been rehearsed. Stanford was nonetheless ashamed to admit his shortcoming in front of his friends, even if it were required to suit the director's end. She understood the posturing that was being accomplished before the words were even out of Emilio's mouth.

"Then it really makes no sense to delay any longer," he theatrically concluded. "We'll let them sleep on our nice comfortable ship and then we'll start our next shifts by helping them extract the containment bay and get underway with it. Even as equipped as I made the Centaur, we're simply no match for the labs at corporate. Their first priority will be the Predator. Understanding its instrumentality could conceivably be of greater benefit to the company than even the acquisition of the alien eggs. Even if we find that we can't fly the Griffin, we could easily still be talking about some absolutely incredible bonuses."

Emilio had very strategically situated the reminder of remuneration at the conclusion of the discussion. Although its importance seemed pallid in comparison to the paradoxes with which they were dealing, he thought it quite prudent at this point to prompt them into recalling that they were working for wages, and he could tell by the abruptly introspective expressions on several of the surrounding faces that he had succeeded.

"See you all on the flipside," he concluded, indicating that they were all dismissed.

Desperation drove Eleanor to invite Colin back to her cabin. However, he seemed to understand how very vulnerable she was and that what she really needed was someone with whom she could have a completely candid conversation. He was perceptive enough to know that it was not an appropriate opportunity for intimacy, no matter how tempting it seemed.

As he was pouring beverages for them both, she turned to him, asking, "Why did the Predator give away its presence to threaten Sangria that way? How can we explain such behavior?"

"We don't know anything about its perceptions," he replied, trying to work his way to an answer. "But even if it can't visually tell the difference between humans and Artificials, it should've known from her encounter with the Alien Queen that she's not like us. And if it knew she couldn't become a host, I'd have to conclude that it just didn't want the eggs to be disturbed."

"If she'd provoked one into hatching," she theorized, "it would've then been forced to try and find a host. Maybe they're not immune, or maybe there was concern that it might cause another explosive decompression situation."

"But why was it in there in the first place?" Colin asked, trying to narrow the focus of their dialogue. "Was it for the same reason they took the Alien Queens, as we assume?"

"That sounds as if they're trying to prevent the alien from propagating," she replied.

"They didn't do that with the Nostromo," Colin objected.

"But that was a century and a half ago," she answered. "Maybe they just didn't know the alien was here then."

"If for some reason their purpose really is to keep the aliens from spreading, what do you think will happen if Banks has been reprogrammed and tries to use his shipmates as hosts?" he asked.

"Something bad," she answered. "It's one thing to stumble into unknown danger. But it's something entirely different to knowingly unleash it on helpless members of your own kind. If the Predator sees that we're capable of such things, it's impossible to estimate its response."

"That bay is equipped with automation for manipulating everything inside it," he said. "Banks won't have to actually go in there to gain access to the eggs. I can't believe it, but I'm considering the sabotage of my own handiwork and wondering if I could possibly pull it off."

"Don't feel too badly about it," she answered. "I was just wondering if I could arrange the assassination of an Artificial."

"There might be one other possibility," he musingly suggested. "If we could come up with some reason for Banks to take a trip down to LV-426 while everyone else is asleep, perhaps exposure to the final few quantum resonations would short-circuit his suspected reprogramming."

"If you can't think of a reason, perhaps we could contact Poole," she replied.

"The message might be intercepted," he sorrowfully responded. "And I can't think of a single reason to send an extra Artificial to the surface."

"Could there maybe be an accident during the transfer of the bay?" she suggested.

"The eggs are already exposed to space," he reminded her. "An explosion sufficient to destroy it would doubtlessly claim the very lives we're trying to save. And the chances of making it look like an accident are probably the same as you taking down the Artificial all by yourself, unless you have some paramilitary expertise about which I know nothing. I don't think there's really anything we can do."

"Then I'll have to take a chance on talking directly to the crew of the Somnambulist," she concluded.

The mess hall was bustling; however, the director's presence was keeping everyone unwanted away from one of the preferred far corners at the back of the spacious bay. As they shuffled their way into the serving line, Eleanor and Colin could see that the crew of the Somnambulist had already assembled there. The pair placed their selections on their trays, checked out, and joined them. Suki, Jamul, and Stanford were also seated among those already amassed.

"I assume you'll be underway soon?" Eleanor asked, looking to Mage. When the red haired captain, having just put a forkful of food into her mouth, replied with a simple nod, Eleanor then said, "I'm also assuming that you and your crew have all been fully briefed about the hazardous cargo you'll be carrying."

Emilio looked concerned by her broaching the subject, but elected not to interrupt as Mage swallowed and smilingly answered, "Yes, we have. Thanks for the concern."

"I hope you won't be offended, but I have to tell you there's no way I'd even consider trading places with you," Eleanor honestly admitted.

Out of the corner of her eye, it looked very much to Eleanor like Emilio was about to say something, when Mage replied, "We're being paid a fortune for our small part in your project."

Looking now instead directly at Emilio, Eleanor concluded, "That's nice to know, but you still have to live long enough to spend it."

Mage seriously surprised Eleanor by answering, "I know all about the Nostromo and there's no way Banks could do anything like that to us. The director warned us that you'd have some concerns. He also told us why. Let me put your mind at rest. We're not in any danger. But thanks all the same."

_I'm out of options. This was my last chance to save these people. Am I wrong? Then why would Emilio try so hard to reassure them? They'll never even see the fortune that's supposed to be changing hands here. But there's nothing more I can do._

Emilio looked like he had read her mind. It left her feeling unnerved. Quickly turning away, she used one foot to pull out a chair at a nearby table. Colin swiftly seated himself immediately beside her. He desperately wanted to say something, anything, to reassure her; but anything he said would certainly be overheard, and he could think of no way to phrase a candid comment.

After they had finished breakfast, everybody headed for exobiology and the bay that would soon be separated from the Centaur. Colin carefully directed the procedure as the containment area was extended away from the backside of the ship, along its supporting armatures, until it could be uncoupled. There was no reason to believe that the Predator had escaped in the interim, but Stanford was still unable to corroborate its presence with any of his equipment. While the two men were employing their expertise, the crew of the Somnambulist moved it into position to receive the extracted compartment.

Eleanor and Suki could only watch helplessly through the monitor as the eggs of the ultimate marauder were removed forever beyond their reach. The cradle of calamity was no longer empty and its contents were no longer under their control.

"It's not too late to blow up the ship," Suki whispered, sounding surprisingly serious.

Eleanor was not really certain if her assistant was teasing her, but she replied, "Yes, I'm afraid it is. There's no way Emilio would let anybody near the kind of critical systems that would have to be sabotaged in order to achieve such an objective. If they're headed for the fate I fear, it's been too late to do anything about it for quite some time now."

Suki had never heard her speak with so defeated a tone. Consequently, she had no idea how to react. The women then watched in subdued silence until the Somnambulist had coupled to its cargo, swung smartly around, and then receded back towards human-occupied space.

Turning to Stanford, who was still seated at the sensor station that he had set up in exobiology, and who seemed unusually preoccupied, Eleanor asked, "You're monitoring their departure, aren't you?"

Shooting her a sidelong look and lowering his voice, he said, "Emilio was concerned that the Predators might interfere with the transfer. But if there's any other ship out there, I haven't been able to detect it. Jamul and I haven't had any luck in that regard. Why?"

"I was wondering if you'd mind watching for awhile," Eleanor replied. "Emilio isn't the only one concerned about their departure."

"If the Predators were going to try something, I think they'd have done it by now," he suggested. Then, with a more despondent tone than she had ever heard him use before, he continued, "But it's not like I have the field around the eggs to study anymore. And my best chance of penetrating the Predators' cloaking technology was while we actually had one trapped in the containment area. So what the hell, I guess I've nothing better to do."

Although she was acutely concerned that Emilio had reprogrammed Banks in much the same manner as Ash, the alien's anonymous accomplice aboard the Nostromo, she preferred to believe that Stanford had only initiated the contact for the director. Now, she was no longer so certain. She hoped his melancholy mood was only the result of his own suspicions about what his expertise had been used to accomplish.

"Banks just signaled that the crew has been secured," he finally announced after a couple of extremely worrisome minutes. "They'll be making the jump to hyperspace any moment now."

The words had no more than left his mouth before there was an immense explosion in the distance. The blindingly bright ball of incinerating radiance left no room for doubt in the minds of the startled observers that it was of thermonuclear nature. His reflexes were almost reminiscent of those of an Artificial as Stanford's hands expertly raced across his controls.

"The explosion originated inside the compartment they were towing," he said after a few moments. "The Somnambulist has been completely destroyed."

Colin had been securing the assembly that once supported the containment bay. He and Emilio entered exobiology together. The director, returning his com-link to his belt, asked, "Did you say the explosion came from inside the compartment with the eggs?"

"I'm afraid so," Stanford replied. "The Predator in there must've come equipped with its own self-destruct device."

"But why use it?" Colin emotionally demanded, showing a side of his personality that the director had not yet seen.

"It must've come to the realization that it was about to be sent at hyperspace speed away from any possible rescue by its shipmates, assuming there's actually an alien ship nearby," Emilio answered, looking straight at Stanford as he finished.

"That's awfully flimsy, even for you!" Colin exclaimed as he turned and unexpectedly railed against the director. "Surely you're not really expecting us to believe that, with their technology, they couldn't rescue one of their own? I think there's pretty much unanimous agreement that the Predators' purpose is to prevent the parasitoids from reproducing! So the only explanation that makes any sense would involve someone trying to gain access to the eggs! And since the Artificial was the only one not in hypersleep, there can be only one answer! You programmed him to make hosts out of his unconscious shipmates! You son of a bitch! That Predator didn't kill those people, Emilio! You did!"

"Oh my God," said Jamul, who had come walking into exobiology right in the middle of Colin's accusation. "Why would you do that?"

"I guess you can stop payment on the fortunes they were promised," Eleanor added. "It'll now be up to the insurance companies to settle their estates. But I'm wondering, just how much did you make in this terrible transaction?"

"This is so nuts. I mean listen to what you're saying. It's paranoid delusion. It's really sad. It's pathetic," Emilio angrily answered. "I'm going to do you a favor and consider it a side-effect of our stressful situation. You're each attempting to force your own definitions on an entirely alien agenda. Why do you assume that the Predators' motives would even make sense to us? They must be far more willing to sacrifice themselves than we are, or they'd have never sent one of their own on an almost certainly suicidal mission. Why are they keeping cloaked when they have to know we're already aware of them? You should stop and consider that their reasons may simply be inscrutable to us. Lose the attitudes!"

"What are we supposed to do now?" Stanford desperately asked.

"Your jobs; your assignments haven't changed and they are actually more important than they were only moments ago," the director steadily replied. He then paused, looking around, before asking, "Where's Tan?"

Almost as if in response to his question, his com-link chimed; and as he answered it, Tan's voice could be heard saying, "The remains from the Alien Queen that was killed by the Predator are no longer in the locker. I don't' know how it was accessed. I can see no sign of tampering. But we've now lost the last bit of our very expensive genetic samples."

"There may've been more than one Predator on the ship," Suki suggested. "I'm sure it wouldn't have been hard for an invisible observer to duplicate the pass-code."

"All we have now is the Griffin," Emilio summarized. Spinning then to confront Colin, he said, "Get down to the worksite and visually verify that nothing appears to have been tampered with. I want that ship finished and fully functional just as promptly as possible."

As Sangria, with Tan right beside her, came walking into their area, she addressed her question to Emilio, asking, "Since the eggs are no longer aboard, do you want me to go with him?"

"I want you both to go with him. Eleanor and Suki, you too," he answered. "I seem to remember being told that there might be some kind critical threshold crossed when we put the last piece of the hull into place. Since the ship might really represent a type of life form, we'd better have the experts on hand in case it's about to wake up. The Centaur is not actually underway, so I see no conflict in having every available Artificial at the site."

Eleanor caught the look of longing that Jamul and Suki exchanged. She could relate to the sense of separation they were experiencing since she and Colin had been forced to face it so many times. She tried hard to think of a reason to ask Emilio to let the stellar cartographer accompany them, but none came to mind. She knew that eventually, if their efforts were successful, the two would both be assigned to the Griffin. But until then, she feared that they would simply have to be patient.

Turning smartly about, Emilio then led the way out of the lab. At a substantially less ambitious pace, everyone finally followed; even though Jamul, Stanford, and Emilio each ultimately turned aside, out in the adjoining corridors, as everybody else headed towards the nearby shuttle bay.

"Perhaps I'm being overly optimistic, it certainly wouldn't be the first time," Suki said, after the two groups had parted company, "but I think there're reasons to believe that the Predators were really only interested in the parasitoids. Now that the Alien Queens have been abducted, the eggs have been annihilated, and the only remaining genetic material has been commandeered; we may've seen the last of them."

"That's pretty funny, considering that we never really saw the first of them," Sangria surprised everybody by humorously observing. She then became very serious by saying, "Since they haven't acted against Poole or any of the rest of our team, it certainly seems logical to conclude that they're not opposed to the Griffin's construction. Hopefully, they'll be equally disinterested in its operation."

Deciding to run the risk of putting such a loaded question to an Artificial, Suki asked, "Sangria, in your estimation why would the Predator have thought it necessary to destroy the Somnambulist?"

The Artificial female suddenly stopped in her tracks, turning to face the exobiologist, as she asked in reply, "Are you sure you want to go there?"

"We're all groping in the dark for answers here," Eleanor interjected. "Maybe it's time for a more objective approach. I think we'd really appreciate an unbiased opinion. Please share your insights."

"The Predators aren't trying to protect you," Sangria stated matter-of-factly. "They've no concern for human life. They're already responsible for over half a dozen deaths. The only conclusion to which I can come is that they're trying to prevent something; however, it's not as simple as the spread of the alien. Their concern has to do with something that would be compromised by such a spread. Humanity is somehow associated with it. This is why they've elected not to communicate with us. The information they'd have to share would not elicit our assistance but would only serve to make us actually combative. This is why they destroyed the Somnambulist. Something took place onboard that ship which convinced them that we couldn't be counted on when it came to containment."

"But why wait?" Eleanor asked. "If it was in there with the eggs all that time, why did it wait to destroy them?"

"There's some kind of honor in their approach," she replied. "They respect the alien."

"But they don't respect its right to reproduce?" Tan asked incredulously.

"Their respect in that regard is situational," Sangria replied. "And there's something about our situation that doesn't match their criteria; specifically, they just don't want it to reproduce with us. At least, they don't want it to reproduce with us here and now."

"Why not?" Colin tensely asked.

"That is the question upon which I'm focusing all my cognitive efforts," Sangria said in reply. "Everything, including whether they'll elect to interfere with the Griffin, hinges on its answer. We've stumbled into something incredibly convoluted. We have yet to identify all the factors, which makes their resolution approximately impossible. Even though I am hesitant to make the suggestion, it might have to do with the Architects' suspected ability to travel through time."

"How so?" Eleanor pressed.

"Without additional data, this is simply speculation," Sangria replied, "but it might be that a premature encounter between humans and the parasitoids could somehow end up compromising what the Predators consider to be the past. This would involve a temporal paradox, so I fully comprehend how problematic it is. However, it is the only scenario I've been able to derive so far that actually seems consistent with their bizarre behavior."

"How could we possibly compromise a time-line through a premature encounter with the parasitoids?" demanded Tan in the same incredulous tone he had used before.

"They have the potential to wipe out the human race," Sangria responded. "Perhaps humanity has yet to do something that the Predators deem important. This would explain why they're only willing to kill the alien when it's about to use a human as a host."

"But that brings us back to their seemingly barbaric beliefs with regards to honor and respect," Colin complained. "What you are describing sounds like the culture of a warrior race. I don't see how it is that we're going to do something as a race that they'd consider worthy of their respect when, from everything you've said so far, it sounds to me like the only thing they respect is the alien."

Tan saw what he believed had been a flash of insight in Sangria's artificial eyes; but when she said nothing in response to the engineer's argument, he elected not to ask her about it.


	3. Chapter 8 thru Epilogue

**Chapter 8**

_**Flight Plan**_

After the unpleasant scene in exobiology, Eleanor felt as if she and her friends were being exiled to the barrenness of LV-426; but the sight of the nearly finished Griffin drove all such misgivings from her mind. The ship looked like a sportier version of the vessel in the pictures taken by the Sulaco, and equally as alien. Despite how remarkable were the materials of which it was made, it was still difficult for her to believe that it could possibly be the product of human enterprise. The fact that Artificials had been so very involved in bringing it into being did little to reconcile this perceptible discrepancy.

Marco had remained with the Griffin and his Artificials while all the other department heads had their skirmish with Emilio. Because the dispute dealt specifically with the crew members of the Centaur and their well being, and not with their manufactured defenders, his presence would have done very little to advance their cause. Despite the fact that the synthetics expert was shrouded by an environmental suit, Eleanor recognized him by his stride as he approached the landing site where their shuttle was preparing to set down.

"How close are we to completion?" asked Colin, impatiently using the intercom.

"You're just in time," was the radioed response as Marco looked up and waved. "I'm having the team hold off until you can take part in the ceremony. If you'd be so kind as to hurry and get suited up, we can get this show on the road."

Donning the required otherworldly attire, Eleanor considered with amusement how it seemed as if everyone was now inclined to follow the example of the Artificials in the use of antiquated colloquialisms. The colorful phraseologies that were often incorporated into their conversations seemed to almost displace them in time. She paused as she realized that the quantum resonations, which were probably responsible for this bizarre behavior, might have some relationship to the derelict's ability to travel through time.

Colin led the way out of the airlock; but as he was only moments from Marco, Poole suddenly appeared and nearly dragged the two researchers away, saying, "I need you to come with me."

Unbidden, everybody followed the leader of the Artificials, although Sangria was the only one actually able to keep up. Eventually, they arrived in the newly completed control room of the intergalactic spacecraft. Poole patiently waited for everyone to arrive, though he made no excuse for the exigency of his exodus. Those assembled nervously silenced themselves.

"After much deciphering, I've been able to determine the derelict's flight plan," Poole said. "Their ship was initially headed for the M31 galaxy. It doesn't appear as if their race had ever gone there before. The crew interacted biometrically with their craft. There's an interruption in that interface that may indicate when they were infected. And it was during that interruption that a new destination was programmed. The identity of the hacker does not correspond to the genetic signature of any of the crew or even the race to which they belonged. They apparently fell prey to an act of space piracy."

Considering the felonious history that had led to her father's execution, Eleanor had to fight to keep her voice even as she asked, "Where did the pirates reroute them to?"

"Earth," Poole replied after seeming to search for any way to answer the question in a manner that would be somewhat less outrageous. He then paused again before finally continuing, "The location is quite specific. It was an island off the coast of Antarctica."

"I'm sure Antarctic traffic control isn't going to be at all pleased to hear that. But how did it end up here?" Sangria seemed to be the only person with the presence of mind left to ask.

"One of the Architects regained consciousness just long enough to force the vessel down here and then set up the warning beacon," Poole replied. "Because their ship was also moving through time, the space pirates apparently lost track of it; although that now seems to have been temporary."

"It was also moving through time?" Eleanor questioningly echoed.

"The destination, as programmed in by the pirates, would have put it on Earth in the late twenty-first century," the android leader answered.

It occurred to Eleanor that this harkened back toward the time when at least some of the expressions, which now seemed to curiously crop up in their conversations, were still in style as Suki said, "It's bad enough for the Predators to have some kind of connection with Earth! But you're saying this connection was established at some point in the past?"

"I'm afraid that's correct," Poole replied. "And I don't have the data to determine how far back in antiquity it was established or what the connection might concern. I'm sorry."

"Those are some very significant unknowns!" Colin exclaimed. Turning to Marco, he asked, "Have you seen any indications whatsoever that there are any Predators with us on the planetoid?"

"No," he resolutely replied, "But as I think I said before, it's entirely possible that the quantum resonations could interact with their technology and give away their presence."

"So once the last piece is put in place, we could lose our advantage," Tan finished.

"That is my concern," Marco admitted, "unless we are able to somehow detect them with the ship itself."

"Do you think we'll be able to do that?" Eleanor asked, turning to Poole.

"Without all the circuits completed, it's impossible for me to make the estimation," he replied. "However, we may have the answer to your question in just a matter of minutes."

"I guess it's time for us to find out then," she pensively replied, frowning forebodingly as she looked across to Colin.

"Let's keep a little optimism here," he graciously suggested. "If they didn't want us to complete this project, they could've easily interceded by now."

"Good point," Poole supportively said. He then added, "However, for safety's sake it might be best if you all observe the fusing of the last section from a distance. It's not that I expect something preemptive from the Predators, but the resulting quantum resonation could easily exceed anything we've experienced thus far. Most of my team will of course remain in here with me so we can interface with the consoles during the last connection, which Duff and Lentz will make from outside the ship. While we're exploring that access, you'll have an opportunity to set up the crew quarters, laboratories, and other amenities."

"Aye, Captain," Chalice teasingly agreed as she entered the control room. Deacon, Terrance, and Vladimir were with her. The four were responding to a transmission from Poole, which was facilitated by an internal transponder.

Marco assisted in ushering the Organics back out into the barren plain. From there, they retreated to a position up behind an outcropping of rocks from which the unfinished section of the ship was visible. Duff and Lentz were using a laser cutter to prep the final piece for its integration into the hull.

"Why do you suppose it was that Poole wanted the two of you in the control room to tell you want he'd found?" Eleanor asked, addressing the question to Marco and Colin.

"He was probably just trying to be prepared in the event that we wanted to examine his evidence," Marco took the opportunity to answer. "Although I'm not sure how exactly we'd have been able to do that."

As the two Artificials turned to put the final section into place, Colin explained, "The hull of the ship is already charged. The assimilation should be almost instantaneous."

He was right. To those assembled, it looked almost as if the last section was sucked right into the side of the ship. As expected, there were consequences, but not all of them had been anticipated. Lentz required no assistance from his associate in order to put the last scale-like piece into place. Consequently, Duff was still standing there with the laser cutter when the completion was accomplished. Everyone saw the three radiant dots that abruptly focused on his form, but only the people who had been present during Sangria's excursion into egg-laden lair understood the danger and they had no time to respond.

The Predator fired just as the quantum connection was completed. Because the two Artificials were in constant contact through their transponders, Lentz was instantly aware that Duff had gone down. He turned just in time for the quantum resonation to reveal the assassin's location. With superhuman speed, and in the midst of a dive-roll, the Artificial recovered the dropped laser cutter. Momentarily immobilized, the Predator was not able to refocus and open fire on the second target before being summarily sliced in half. Duff was deactivated by the irreparable damage, but the Predator had paid the ultimate price.

Understanding what was about to happen, Eleanor had broken cover while shouting a warning. She was struck full on by the mysterious shockwave, which knocked her from her feet. However, she succeeded in tripping Tan as he rushed to recover the remains of the Artificials' dissected assailant.

"You can't keep it," she rasped as the geneticist sprawled beside her. "We've every reason to believe they regard carcasses as sacred. It fits with their behavior so far. If you try to take it aboard to study it, we'll all regret it. Just wait and see if they don't reclaim it."

Colin and Marco helped the two to their feet; and, although Eleanor still appeared to be shaken by the experience, she shouted at Lentz, saying, "Drop the laser cutter! Don't pick it back up again. It might be that Sangria is only with us because she wasn't actually armed. If the inside of the ship can be completed with something that doesn't resemble a weapon, you should use whatever it is instead."

"Are you okay?" asked Colin, scrutinizing her closely. And then, before she could try to answer, he said, "I think we'd better send you back to the Centaur and let Kalinda take a look at you. Suki and Tan should be able to brief you when you get back if there're any breakthroughs. The rest of it is now just interior design details anyway."

Smiling wryly, despite her discomfort, she jokingly said, "You're just afraid I'm going to add a woman's touch to the inside of your experimental ship."

"So you're on to me, huh?" he teasingly asked in reply.

Savvy came walking up at that moment. Like the other members of the engineering team, she had been sent outside with instructions to put some distance between herself and the ship prior to its completion. Since the last evacuees had proceeded to a different assembly area, she was now understandably looking for Marco. Colin saw an advantage in her timely arrival.

As she located Marco, who was crouching over the inert form of Duff and looking up at her with a frown, Colin touched her on the shoulder and asked, "Is there a chance you could oversee the next phase of construction while I escort Eleanor back to the Centaur? I think it might be wise to let Kalinda check her out."

"Not a problem," she happily replied, despite the drama into which she had walked.

Eleanor could not help but notice that even the chief engineer's assistant seemed to be susceptible to the pervasive use of outdated adages. But while her mind did not seem to have been effected at all by her encounter with the quantum resonation, she stumbled unexpectedly. Colin caught her but was quite candid in his concern.

Using his com-link, he contacted the android leader, saying, "Poole, this is Colin. I'm very sorry about your loss and I'm sure this isn't the most opportune time, but I am afraid Eleanor may've been injured by the shockwave and needs to go back up to the Centaur. She's unsteady on her feet, and I was wondering if you could possibly spare one of your people to help me escort her."

"Lentz should need no help in handling the fine tuning of the interior," Poole replied, "However, most of the rest of us will need to remain connected to the Griffin's controls if we are to expand our understanding of its instrumentality. But I suppose I could possibly spare Sangria, and she's the member of my team with whom your friend is most familiar anyway. I'll send her out."

While they waited, Colin summoned a shuttle and contacted Kalinda. Not long after, they were on their way back up to the Centaur where, despite her objections, Colin used automation to transport Eleanor the rest of the way to the sickbay. Chief Medical Officer Kalinda Dubois was waiting to receive them, but she was not alone. Director Esperanza was also on hand.

"What happened down there?" he asked as Colin and Sangria wheeled their charge into the room.

Mistaking his meaning, Colin answered, "She was exposed to a full dose of the most powerful quantum resonation we've seen so far."

"No, I mean what happened to Duff?" Emilio explained.

"Thanks a lot for the concern," Eleanor sardonically answered. "He was killed by one of the Predators, but Lentz eliminated the assassin."

"Can he be repaired?" Emilio asked, sounding unusually anxious.

"Marco certainly didn't seem to think so," Colin replied. But then, he asked, "Haven't you already gotten a report about this from him?"

"Yes, but I'd hoped for a more optimistic appraisal," Emilio admitted. Turning then to Kalinda, he surprised her by saying, "I'm afraid you're just going to have to do without an Artificial after all, although you and Kaminski are welcome to lodge a formal complaint. It takes five Artificials just to connect to all the controls on the Griffin. Without Sangria, we'll only have one backup. That's simply not satisfactory for a mission of such significance. If Tan chooses to go along now, we'll just have to make room for Suki. I won't be forced to renege on my offer to her."

The expression on Sangria's artificial face very much reminded Eleanor of how Suki had responded upon learning that she was getting to go. Sangria surely understood that Tan had backed out only to avoid being separated from her, and so she was anticipating how excited he would be when he found out that they now had the opportunity to both be aboard. But such an obviously emotional sentiment in someone synthetic was difficult for Eleanor to reconcile with what she knew about androids. She was once again witnessing incontrovertible evidence that the Artificials had exceeded the sum of their programming.

"Duty compels me to report such a contravention of protocol," Kalinda steadily said.

"Of course it does," Emilio agreed. He then turned and abruptly exited the infirmary.

After requesting and receiving a very thorough description of what had happened to Eleanor, Kalinda looked at her and said, "I realize you were only responding instinctively, but why didn't you just duck? I've heard about the so-called shockwaves and they sound mysterious in the extreme to me. I'm not sure we'll be able to detect it even if it really did something to you. You're really putting me to the test here."

"Please just do your best," Colin interjected before Eleanor could possibly continue the discussion.

"That's my motto," Kalinda jokingly rejoined.

When various types of scanning proved inconclusive, Eleanor then had to submit to an extensive series of tests. She had been expecting hematology and urology; but when Kalinda was reserved about the results and said she would also need a sample of spinal fluid, Eleanor and Colin became extremely uneasy. These misgivings were compounded when Kalinda wanted to consult with Tan before discussing her findings any further. With no alternative, they nervously awaited his arrival.

Once there, Tan then spent several minutes reviewing all the readings with Kalinda before he took it upon himself to present the results to Eleanor, saying, "There are some neurological abnormalities. In short, you seem to have undergone some form of genetic restructuring. There are alterations at an almost subliminal level. It doesn't appear to be serious and we don't think it's progressive, but you shouldn't be exposed again."

"Does that mean I'm off the Griffin?" Eleanor fearfully asked, sounding very close to tears.

"The hull seems to protect the occupants from the quantum resonations," Colin took the opportunity to reply. "Poole only had us evacuate because he couldn't be sure if we'd experience a different effect as we were finishing it."

"I need to tell you something else," Tan carefully continued. "As I am sure you know; the remains of the Architects were so completely petrified that it was very problematic to examine them microscopically. I thought their interaction with the alien might have made them that way, since someone could conceivably understand things about them through analyzing the effects they have upon their prey. This would be consistent with the ability they were given to defeat medical scanners. But the anomalies I'm seeing in your scans remind me of some of the structures I detected in the Architects."

"What does that mean?" Eleanor nervously asked.

"The use of their technology might've had the same impact on them that you're now experiencing," he replied. "Perhaps it's the reason they began using genetic engineering so extensively and even incorporating themselves into their ships. They had to adapt."

"Don't you think it's strange that an organism as alien as the Architects appear to be would physiologically react in so much the same way as a human?" Kalinda asked.

"Since the shockwaves seem to originate outside what we'd consider normal space, it might have a similar action on any life form," Tan hypothesized.

"That certainly doesn't explain what's happened to the Artificials," Colin countered.

"And you're also proceeding from the assumption that the shockwaves represent an unintentional byproduct, not something deliberately designed," Eleanor added.

"I see this phenomenon as something intrinsic to their technology," Tan replied, "but that certainly doesn't mean they couldn't manipulate it. Perhaps it naturally exists across a spectrum, but they've refined it in much the same way that we access the wavelengths of light."

"And by so doing, they've isolated an energy that turns machines into life forms and sentient beings into something in cybernetic symbiosis?" Kalinda disbelievingly asked.

"Hey, I'm not making this up. I'm just looking at the available evidence," Tan replied. "It's not my fault if it's all so incredibly alien."

"And just how actually alien is it all?" Eleanor enigmatically asked.

"What are you saying?' Colin carefully inquired, secretly concerned by the unfamiliar expression that had spread across her face.

"You're a celebrated geneticist, Tan, so you shouldn't be surprised that I've perused your publications. You know the problem with panspermia," she answered, but speaking instead to Tan. "The spontaneous generation of even the simplest bacterium was shown to be mathematically impossible centuries ago. Consequently, some scientists theorized that life on Earth had come from elsewhere in the universe, borne on meteorites. But the truth of the matter is: the few extraterrestrial organisms we've found up until now have all been so redolent of life on Earth that I recently authored the idea of reverse panspermia. And we still have not found a world more idyllic for the inception of life than the one from which we come."

"You've lost me," Colin complained.

"Panspermia assumes that there's a more perfect place than our home planet where life was able to originally arise. But as far into space as we've spread, we still have yet to discover such a mythological haven," Tan replied, turning to Colin. "And because the few extraterrestrial organisms, which we have found, are ridiculously reminiscent of life forms on Earth, Eleanor has published a paper in which she advances the idea that life actually originated there and then spread to other star systems. While I'll admit that her evidence is evocative, it still doesn't explain how life began to begin with."

"Because all Artificials are uploaded with an understanding of Earth's religions," said Sangria, unexpectedly entering the conversation, "we consider her innovative suggestion to be of supreme importance, since it would make Earth the center of life in the universe. The mechanism for that propagation is unimportant. It hardly matters if it was actually an impact event or a cataclysmic eruption. The only pertinent problems with her hypothesis are the Architects, the parasitoids, and the Predators."

"Those are some pretty big problems," Tan objected, seeming almost amused.

"Not necessarily," Sangria surprisingly said. "Physiologically, the Architects bear an almost uncanny resemblance to humans. Additionally, you yourself have speculated that the two races react in much the same way when exposed to the quantum resonations. If we take into account that the Predators were actually trying to send that ship full of alien eggs to Earth, the obligatory implication is that there's some kind of relationship between each of the aforementioned life forms."

Suddenly suspicious that Sangria and Eleanor had already achieved the very kind of symbiosis about which Kalinda had conjectured, Colin intently asked, "Can you calculate the possible parameters of this suggested relationship?"

"I'm sorry," Sangria answered, sounding emphatically earnest. "I'm still collating."

"Does it help by taking into account that the Predators were ostensibly sending them into the past?" Kalinda asked.

"I've failed to find any religious reference that would seem to expose the predictable outcome of such an interaction," Sangria replied; "but if the resulting fatalities eliminated the impacted tribes completely, perhaps no verification survived."

"Don't we have to assume that they eventually succeeded, or perhaps that it wasn't even the first time?" Tan asked. And then, before anyone could try to answer, he added, "If they were responsible for transporting parasitoids into the past, they must have been used under extremely controlled circumstances or we'd have never survived as a race."

"So they were using us and protecting us at the same time? Isn't that kind of sick?" Colin asked.

"No sweetheart, it's called husbandry," Eleanor answered; "a rather interesting word when you think about it. And humans have been doing it for thousands of years."

"I'm remembering references I read to human sacrifices where each victim had their heart cut out," Kalinda interjected. "And now I'm wondering if that's even what was really happening at all."

"There might be some substance to your suggestion," Sangria said, "but I obviously can't substantiate it. Therefore, I can hardly use it to extrapolate an alien agenda."

Coming over Kalinda's com-link, Emilio's voice asked, "How's our patient?"

Triggering the transmitter, she tolerantly replied, "I decided to get a second opinion, but I think we're in agreement that she should be able to return to duty. However, I'd like to have another look before she goes anywhere in the Griffin."

"We'll discuss that in greater detail in a minute," Emilio enigmatically answered. He then asked, "Do you mind letting me talk to Colin?"

After Kalinda had handed over the com-link, Emilio said, "I've been reviewing all the compartmentalization options for the Griffin's configuration. I see that we could increase its crew compliment by slightly decreasing the size of the cabins and they'd still be quite substantial. As soon as you're all back at the site, I'd like you to have Lentz and Sangria help you implement the design I've downloaded to your dicta-screen. This'll ensure that we have plenty of room for Suki, Tan, and Kalinda. And now, if you'd be so kind, please hand the com-link back to her and expedite getting yourselves out of her sickbay."

Colin did as requested, urging Eleanor, Sangria, and Tan to depart with him with all possible speed; but before the compartment door had hissed shut behind them, they all heard Kalinda holler, "What?"

To the surprise of his companions, Colin steadfastly refused to make any comments concerning the contents of his conversation with the director until they were loaded back aboard the shuttle and headed back to LV-426. Sangria more than made up for the lack however by telling Tan the good news about her reassignment to the Griffin and Emilio's offer for him to still come along.

Knowing that Colin was the most immediately responsible when it came to arranging quarters for the Griffin's crew, Tan turned to him, asking, "Is this really true?"

Colin secured the shuttle's airlock behind them all before finally replying, "Yes. We'll be expanding the Griffin's compliment and you're not the only addition. Emilio intends for Kalinda to be aboard as well."

"He's not only leaving the Centaur without an Artificial, but he's also confiscating the chief medical office?" Eleanor incredulously inquired. "Why would he do that?"

"You see now why I wanted to wait until there wasn't any chance of being overheard before we had this discussion?" Colin asked in reply.

"Yes, but that doesn't answer my question," Eleanor insisted. "There has to be some reason that he'd risk such an immense departure from protocol."

"There'll certainly be repercussions," Tan agreed. "So, whatever benefit he is hoping to derive from this expedition must entirely outweigh the danger of any disciplinary action that the oversight committee might take against him."

"But with everything else already eliminated, all we have to show for all our expense is the new ship," Colin countered. "We've been anticipating its completion for quite some time now. Nothing has changed in that regard. Exposure to the quantum resonations can be debilitating; but we've confirmed that the shockwaves are only directed outwards, and I'm not sure what Kalinda could do even if that weren't the case."

"It's no secret that Kalinda has expressed optimism about the possibility of removing an alien embryo and thereby saving the host," Sangria observed. "The director would not be forcing her to come along unless he anticipated the possibility of needing her service. Therefore, there's only one logical answer. He intends to take the Griffin to Leo 1 and try to find the source of the missing parasitoids. Kalinda is what you would call his insurance policy."

"Even if the Predators let us launch, and I'm only choosing to be so sanguine, they'll almost certainly follow us if only they're able," Eleanor worriedly remarked. "Haven't they made it clear enough that they don't want us interacting with the parasitoids in any form? Even if we can elude an invisible adversary and are able to replace what we lost, we still have to bring them back. I don't think there's even a chance we won't be intercepted and destroyed before we can deliver our cargo."

"He's not planning on bringing them back," Tan defensively said. He had slipped into the seat beside Colin and was looking at the engineer's dicta-screen. "The storage areas on the Griffin wouldn't be satisfactory for securing a dangerous organism. If anything, he must be trying to determine exactly where they came from and why they were created to begin with. He's probably bringing Kalinda along in case we accidentally get too close."

"You must be right," Eleanor agreed, startled to realize that she had been somewhat reckless with her words in front of Tan. "Between the Predators and the inimitable loss of both the Somnambulist and the parasitoids, I guess I'm letting my paranoia get the better of me."

"Don't forget that you were also just steamrolled by a mysterious shockwave," Colin was quick to add as he understood that she was desperately trying to salvage an uneasy alliance with the geneticist.

"Not to worry," Tan reassuringly replied. "It's like our work shifts have turned into an interminable chess match, where losing means something like Armageddon. If any of us are still the least bit sane, it's a consummate miracle."

Eleanor noticed how Sangria, who was seated beside him, leaned over against Tan as he spoke words of peace to dismiss any appearance of disagreement. This emotional behavior looked so completely normal that, had she not known about Sangria's synthetic nature, Eleanor would most certainly have assumed her to be human. Even though such a blurring of any observable differences in their behavior should have been unbelievable, it was instead becoming incredibly commonplace; and even more than that, she felt as if she were coming to accept them as legitimate and complete people.

Although her last trip to the surface had ended in a medical emergency, and despite how altogether alien the Griffin should superficially have felt; her experience was actually one of homecoming. She could not identify the source of the strange perception, but she was so reassured by its aspect that she was not certain how wise it would be to possibly dispel it. She thought she should probably report it, but she also wanted to wait until she and Colin were alone before taking a chance on so doing. Following in his footsteps, she strode onto the ship as if it were waiting to receive her.

"Aren't you going to go to the control room first?" she asked as her escort led her in an unexpected direction.

Erroneously assuming that she had simply seen the dicta-screen and consequently was aware of the Griffin's internal configuration, Colin replied, "I need to tell Lentz about Emilio's revisions and get Sangria started in the other section. You can go say howdy to Poole if you'd prefer. I'm sure he'd be glad to know you're really alright."

It never even occurred to Colin that he was ascribing sentient sentiments to a device that merely mimicked the human form; if, in fact, that were any longer the case. She was happy to accept his suggestion however and quickly turned down a curving conduit that she somehow knew would take her directly to her objective.

In only a few more work shifts, the Griffin was finally ready for Emilio's inspection. In the meantime all nonessential personnel were gradually evacuated back to the Centaur, leaving only those individuals who were actually assigned to the crew of the intergalactic vessel. Along with Colin, for safety's sake, Savvy Stevens, his assistant, was going. Suki was also included as backup for Eleanor since both engineering and exobiology were of paramount importance to the mission. Because of the cosmic nature of the exploration in which they were engaged, Jamul was also part of the Griffin's compliment. Marco and all seven of the Artificials were aboard. Since they hoped to be able to keep in some kind of contact with the Centaur, Stanford was also assigned to the team. Tan and Kalinda were the latecomers, although the latter of which was openly hostile about the assignment. Of course, Emilio had also assigned himself to the experimental ship.

The wreckage of the derelict had revealed no evidence of a lifeboat's remnants. The director had been hoping that Colin's team would be able to construct a smaller skiff with the same fantastical features as the Griffin, although nobody had the least idea how they would control it. Instead, he finally had to settle for the incorporation of a shuttle bay. The shuttle, in which he arrived, had already been outfitted for extensive use by engineers on the Centaur. Landing right alongside the Griffin, it was then brought into the bay that had been built for it.

Because of assurances from all the Artificials, Poole in particular, that they would be able to operate the incredibly alien-looking conveyance, the Griffin had already been well stocked with everything its compliment could possibly need. Kalinda even had an area in which to perform medical procedures, along with equipment and supplies, in the event of their necessity. And in spite of the fact that the Griffin accommodated only one less crew member than had the derelict, from the remnants of which it had been built, it had quite a surprising amount of space for its awestruck occupants.

The systems upon which they were depending for their transportation and even their very survival were essentially not understood. They had discovered that the ship's power was self-perpetuating after it achieved a critical threshold, but they could only guess that this was somehow the product of its enigmatic interaction with the continuum. As a result they were forced to rely on the diagnostic systems, which were part of the curious craft's controls, to assure them of its optimum operation. So if there were a system's failure; the Artificials, and their ability to interface with the super-intelligent ship, would represent the only prospect for a recovery.

Nevertheless, everyone seemed optimistic about the upcoming adventure; although Emilio had yet to officially inform them about its ultimate destination. They would have to successfully finish a test flight first, and it was for this initial experience that they were all assembled. Beckoning everybody to the spacious control room, he then instructed them to strap themselves into the seats that were strategically situated all around its outskirts.

Each of the seats incorporated easily accessible controls and a personalized display with which its occupant could execute scans according their individual area of expertise. These were in addition to the displays that were visible to everybody. There was also an option for transferring the readout from any of the specific stations to the main monitors.

The Artificials were already reclining in seats that had been constructed in proximity to the consoles with which each was most experienced. At Emilio's instruction, Stanford already had Kaminski and the Centaur standing by to monitor the maiden voyage of the Griffin. Poole, Deacon, Terrance, Vladimir, and Chalice were connected to the controls. Lentz and Sangria were in reserve as backups. After verifying that everyone was ready by using the instantaneous connection of their transponders, Poole instructed the others at the controls to help him initiate the translocation of the ship.

Through viewing screens that were situated all around the room, above the seats in which all the Organics were sitting, they were startled to realize that the Griffin was now in orbit alongside the Centaur. It had taken no more than a moment for the experimental ship, assembled almost entirely from the remains of the derelict, to finally free itself from its millennia-long confinement on LV-426 and assume an orbit in exact concurrence with that of the Centaur.

"Holy crap!" Tan inadvertently exclaimed.

"That about sums it up," Stanford shakily said.

"I didn't even feel us move," Marco remarked.

"We didn't," Poole explained. "The universe did."

"Maybe it's a good thing you made Kalinda come along after all," Eleanor observed, turning to Emilio. "Some of us will probably require pharmaceuticals before we've made many more jumps like that."

"What she said," Colin quickly agreed.

"Kaminski sends his compliments," Stanford announced. "But he says he'll refuse if you want to race."

"Poole, take us to the other side of Livinum," Emilio unexpectedly instructed. As the view of the Centaur was impossibly replaced with one of the gas giant, he explained, "If the Predators are around here and want to interfere, I thought it best not to give them a stationary target."

"That's why you get paid the big bucks," Eleanor teasingly said. She then surprised everyone by adding, "Thanks."

"Yes, you may've just saved our skins; at least for the moment," Kalinda interjected. "But in what way are you planning to possibly endanger them next?"

Emilio regarded her darkly for a moment before finally saying, "The opportunity is to make contact with the civilization whose technology we now have at our disposal. In fact, our best chance of understanding it is to consult with its creators. As Tan and both of our exobiologists are aware, we stowed some of the best examples of the Architects and the things that killed them in one of our holds. We can definitively demonstrate that they died long ago and not by our hands. Maybe they're even already aware of the parasitoids and can clue us in on how they were created. We could quite possibly earn their appreciation by revealing what happened to their missing ship so, at the very least, we might succeed in opening relations with a species that can take us to the next level of technology."

"If they're even still there," said Poole, interrupting Emilio's pretentious proclamation.

"What are you talking about?" asked Colin before the director could take offense at the impudence of the Artificial.

"Most of you know by now that the derelict was redirected here by an apparent act of space piracy," Poole explained. "Their original destination was the M31 galaxy, which was seemingly unexplored; but we've now determined that they made a stop on the way. It appears to have been in response to a distress signal. We believe the parasitoid came aboard attached to one of the individuals they rescued. If it was a Predator that changed their course while they were subsequently rendered unconscious, it might've boarded at the same time. But the most troublesome part of this mystery has only been understood quite recently."

"And that is?" Eleanor asked.

"There's evidence that they were evacuating Leo 1 in response to a decision made by their entire species," Poole replied. "We don't yet understand the reasons behind the decision, only the intent of the evacuation order that they were attempting to obey."

"They were trying to transplant their entire civilization?" Jamul incredulously asked.

"We don't have any idea how many other ships responded; or, if they were unable to do so, what would have been preventing them," Poole replied. "But yes, that does seem to be what was happening."

"And you think the Predators may've been involved?" Kalinda asked.

"The identity of the individual who rerouted their trajectory hasn't been determined," the android leader answered. "If there is a Predator on this ship with us and it accesses the controls without also eliminating us, then I'll be able to make a comparison between its interface and the one in the records. Until then, we can only offer educated guesses."

"But if that's what happened, then you believe it must've come aboard with whoever they were trying to rescue?" Colin asked.

"It may be no more than wishful thinking on my part, but I'd prefer to believe they're unable to board a ship like ours during translocation," Poole replied, smiling personably.

"So there is a possibility that we'll come out of translocation only to find ourselves in a ghost galaxy," Emilio summarized. "However, we might just be able to learn everything about their technology by means of archeology. Since I'm really only assuming that we'd be afforded a courteous reception, it might even be the safest way."

"But if something drove them out of their own galaxy, we could run right into it," Suki suggested.

"Thank you for not being afraid to share your concern," the director surprised her by saying. "If I didn't appreciate the insights of anyone onboard, I would never have chosen them for this mission. I understand what you're saying but, in our terms, whatever it was happened almost a million years ago. My proposed destination is not the civilization they once had. I plan to use the instantaneous option and go there in contemporary time. And anyway, the Artificials have all informed me that they're going to need significant in-flight experience before they'll be ready to attempt the type of time travel that would otherwise be required."

"So we're not quite ready to go back before the beginning or beyond the confines of the universe?" Eleanor rhetorically asked.

"Not this trip out," Emilio answered, cocking his jaw as if he were trying to determine how serious she really was about such a suggestion.

"How do you plan to proceed?" asked Jamul.

Emilio nodded at Poole, who explained, "We would use a series of translocations to make the jump. First, we'd move the ship outside the Milky Way's elliptical plain in order to obtain a clear course to our objective. We'd then cross intergalactic space to arrive in close proximity to Leo 1. From there, we would examine our options and select the most reasonable route into its core systems. It's possible that, once we're on the fringes of the other galaxy, we might have access to an autopilot function that would take us directly to their homeworld."

"That could be an advantageous option," Jamul guardedly agreed, "as long as it did not automatically adjust our time coordinates to some prior period during translocation."

"I would of course have to be able to verify the place and time of our arrival before executing any such option," Poole approvingly replied.

"The configuration of and the amount of mass in Leo 1 is significantly different than what we're used to experiencing here in the Milky Way," Jamul reminded his teammates. "This may not impinge upon our perceptions; but, if it does, even I can't predict what that might mean. If so, the ship may nullify the effects; but the skiff would still be susceptible."

"I've considered that," Emilio stated. "And I hesitate to expose anybody else to such an unknown danger. Therefore, if an away-mission seems recommended, the first group out will consist only of myself and possibly one other volunteer. Then, it'll be up to all the rest of you to affect a rescue if one is required. So I hope you're all sufficiently reassured at this point to see that I'm putting my own life on the line. But that is what a good leader is supposed to do."

Eleanor quickly recognized that Emilio had wasted no time in returning to his earlier theme of self-aggrandizement. But this time, not even Poole could raise any objections.

_Somewhere behind this silver lining there's a storm cloud brewing. If the first group out consists of no more than Emilio and maybe one other person, possibly Stanford, it'll be easy for him to do whatever he wants without any interference. If he has to eliminate that one witness, in order to achieve his objective, he could quite conceivably get away with murder. I wonder if he'll be able to come up with any reason to object to having an Artificial go along for the ride. After all, that's how we normally safeguard spacemen. I'll have to wait and see if such a situation really develops. He'll have to have an incredibly ironclad argument to keep me from installing an Artificial on that shuttle._

"Send a message to the Centaur," Emilio said to Stanford, "telling them what we're going to attempt. I want them to remain in orbit here for six standard weeks. If we're not back by then, it would probably be best if they abandon this site. There's nothing of any value left here anyway."

A moment later, Stanford replied, "They've acknowledged the message and wished us luck."

Looking to Poole, Emilio said, "We had better execute the first translation before the Predators figure out where we went."

"Congratulations crewmates," Poole paused to say. "You're about to venture further out into space that any human has ever gone before. Please keep your tray tables in the upright and locked position. In just a moment, you will no longer be inside the Milky Way galaxy. Jamul, I'm activating the recording equipment you brought aboard."

"Thank you," the stellar cartographer excitedly said.

Nobody experienced anything indicating an alteration in their state of inertia, but the viewing screens each gave immediate evidence of their exodus. On one side of the ship stretched the iridescent, sprawling spiral from which humanity had just emerged. On the other side was a void much vaster than anything any of them had ever imagined. Some of the screens indicated clusters of what appeared to be no more than pinpoints of light, but they all looked impossibly distant.

"Welcome to intergalactic space," the android leader officially announced. Sounding suddenly concerned, he looked around the control room and asked, "Is everyone alright? We can stop here and let Kalinda have a look if anyone has any problems to report."

After everybody assured him that they were not in any difficulty, he turned to Emilio and said, "We're set for the jump to Leo 1. Jamul has confirmed its juxtaposition with his estimate of the cluster's current spatial location."

"Let's do it," the director authoritatively instructed. "And let's pray that the Predators don't have any way of tracking us."

Everyone could see the images that were hovering above the dais. At one end was the galaxy from which they had just emerged. At the other end was the cluster that was their destination. They saw a representation appear at the outskirts of the cluster as the Artificials came to an agreement on the location of their emergence from translocation.

"Here we go," Poole rhetorically remarked.

A split second later, the image of Leo 1 filled the viewing screens on one side of the control room. Poole spun the perspective around once to give everyone a look. Bringing the image of their galactic destination into full magnification above the dais, he indicated the shipping lane that had once existed in the area to which they were now immediately adjacent. It led to the Architects' homeworld and other important planets along the way.

Looking up from the screen that was mounted next to his seat, Jamul said, "I'm able to visually verify that all the stars along this shipping route are completely consistent with their representations in the alien image. I see no evidence of a supernova in this sector."

"So if they really were evacuating, it wasn't because of a cosmic catastrophe," Colin concluded.

"Not anything that shows up in the visible spectrum," Jamul politely pointed out. "But consider what passes for a propulsion system on this ship. If the use of their inexplicable technology somehow compromised the continuum, the evidence might not be that easily observable."

"It might be wise to proceed slowly," Sangria suggested.

"I concur," the director agreed. "Take us in nice and easy."

"In this ship that would be what; like a light year at a time?" Colin joked.

Poole made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snicker before he said, "I think we can comply with those instructions. And we're also going to initiate a subroutine that'll continually chart an emergency course back out of the cluster if we run into trouble. I can tell you that the navigational system isn't monitoring any traffic either on this or any other adjacent shipping lane. But the system offers no explanations for such an absence."

Trying to interject some humor into the situation, Suki said, "Good, I absolutely hate having to deal with traffic."

"That's the spirit," Emilio applauded. "Their absence might mean an advantage. We need to try to keep our outlooks as positive as possible. Remember back to your earliest days of space training. Survival is very often a simple matter of perspective. I'm sure you all know the saying; if lose you head, you could lose your life. We're almost a million light years from Earth, but we're all hardened space explorers and we've been prepared to do precisely this type of work. If we don't give into fear, we stand a chance of bringing about the greatest advancements the human race has ever seen. We just need to stay focused and in control of our faculties."

Eleanor found that even she was almost moved by such a motivational speech. She had to forcefully remind herself that, being rendered by the Director for the Bio-Weapons Division of the Weyland-Yutani Corporation, it was possibly little more than manipulation. She knew there were some, herself included, who did not consider any improvements in humanity's ability to annihilate itself as an actual advancement. But as suspicious as she was about the purpose of the project, to which she had become attached, she also knew he was right. The Griffin was indisputable proof of the possibility that they might be about to make discoveries that would revolutionize science as they understood it. Although she was still suspicious of Emilio's actual agenda, the mission could still be of immeasurable importance to all humanity. She was forced to grudgingly recognize that fact.

As the distance between their craft and the cosmic image on the monitors started to incrementally diminish, Poole looked around at everybody assembled in the control room and said, "This is your captain speaking. On behalf of the entire flight crew I would like to welcome to Leo 1, where the outside temperature is a balmy two-and-a-quarter degrees above Absolute Zero Kelvin. We hope you'll enjoy your stay. And we thank you for flying with Weyland-Yutani."

**Chapter 9**

_**A long time ago in a galaxy**_

_**not quite far enough away**_

_Despite the surrealism of suddenly being so impossibly far from home, why does it feel like I've been here before?_

The further into the unfamiliar field of stars they went, the more Eleanor experienced an irreconcilable sense of recognition. Although this seriously confused her at first, she gradually began to realize that she was not the source of the perception. It was the ship.

"Internal pressure is still steady. And I'm reading no radiation inside the ship," Colin consolingly announced as he examined the instrument panel mounted by his seat, since everyone seemed overwhelmed by the view on the monitors. "All systems are nominal to profile. The Griffin was designed to do this kind of thing."

"It's been here before," Eleanor whispered.

Even though anyone else might have thought she was merely restating the obvious, Poole regarded her with unusual intensity and then unexpectedly asked her, "Where do you want to go first?"

Before Emilio could object to Poole asking her to select the primary destination, she inexplicably replied, "Cromacthula."

She had spoken with an accent that did not conform to any of the languages known by such a wide selection of crewmates, nor did this aspect of the otherworldly utterance escape their attention.

As Poole complied by selecting the nearest of the most prominent points in the dais' display, Emilio inquired, "How did you know what it was called?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure," Eleanor answered. "It's like something out of a dream. I feel like I've been here before."

"Our scans revealed that her central nervous system was somewhat affected when she was struck by that shockwave," Kalinda explained. "We must be seeing a side effect of that interaction; but there was no evidence of anything debilitating and as important as she obviously is to it, I couldn't justify pulling her off of the project. There's been no other occurrence of the lightheadedness that originally got her sent to sickbay. I am monitoring her condition closely."

"I'm fine, honestly," she said, addressing the comment mostly to Colin.

"You will tell us if you start to think otherwise?" asked Colin. He then leaned forward and stressed, "Won't you?"

"Of course," she sheepishly replied.

"We can get you back to the Centaur almost instantaneously," Emilio added, though she could not be sure if he were reassuring her or manipulatively asking her to mask her symptoms since they might require her removal from the team.

"I really don't think it'll come to that," she very positively responded. "And if I actually gained some kind of new ability to understand the culture of the Architects, it would have to represent an advantage."

No one knew how to react to this new development, so everyone simply stared with silence at the screen and the planet that they were soon approaching. It was larger than the Earth and situated differently in its respective solar system. But since the star around which it was in orbit was of a different class than the sun, the positional discrepancy was soon demonstrated as quite compensational. It was almost unbelievably earthlike.

"Looks like we've discovered a cosmic counterpart to our own planet," Sangria softly observed.

Marco carefully did not take the opportunity to point out that the female Artificial had never really been there as he agreed, "Yeah. The similarity is striking."

"Any evidence of inhabitants?" Emilio asked.

"I'm reading life forms all over the surface," Eleanor replied. "There's also abundant evidence of aquatic creatures."

"What about technology?" he asked, turning to Colin.

"Negative," the engineer answered, shaking his head and frowning in confusion.

"Rather than risk a shuttle excursion, I could just take us inside the atmosphere for a closer look," Poole suggested.

"Sounds reasonable," the director replied. "Okay, do it."

They abandoned their soaring situation and approached the surface of the planet. It was not long before they began to see the abominable animals of which its population was composed. They were clearly descendents of the parasitoids. It appeared that every one of the planets indigenous species had been replaced.

"From the way things look, they should've run out of hosts long ago," Emilio openly observed. "How are they continuing to propagate?"

"They probably ate everything that was too small to use as a host," Suki suggested. "But since I don't imagine they're immortal, I can't explain how they survived so long with no original population to use for reproduction."

"We never learned anything about their longevity," Eleanor added as Emilio turned his questioning expression in her direction.

"This is really weird," Tan interjected. "The plant life just doesn't look alien at all. I'm seeing grasses and trees that are completely terrestrial in appearance. It almost appears as if they've taken forms with which we're familiar and reengineered them to thrive in the type of light this world receives. Am I supposed to assume this just represents some kind of impossibly parallel development?"

"I also see what look like classical structures in some of the architecture," Colin said. "I suppose there are only so many ways to build a building. But if I had the opportunity to design super-cities like those that almost completely cover this planet; I'd probably try to incorporate some examples of historical style as well."

"Let's resume our course for the homeworld," the director instructed. "Maybe we can get our answers there."

Even Emilio seemed perceptibly relieved to be leaving the nightmarish scene. Poole and his team took the Griffin back up out of the atmosphere and resumed a course along the shipping lane that was still displayed in the image above the dais. But their pervasive sense of optimism had been replaced with one of dread as everyone worriedly regarded the other supposedly populated planets in that display. Since the outermost of the worlds had been revealed as overrun, it now seemed nonsensical to anticipate something better from those in the cluster's almost certainly compromised interior.

Even though she really did not want to be responsible for exposing her shipmates to more of the same, Eleanor felt that she had no choice but to suggest, "On the off-chance that someone developed a defense to what was happening to their people, I'm afraid we had better take a look at every one of their centers of civilization along the way."

Nodding first in tight-lipped agreement, Emilio agreed, saying, "Yeah, we'd better do just that."

_I may've been wrong. Insanity might just be most strongly represented by the ability to traverse the space between the stars with no respect for the actual distance between them. What we've referred to as spacefaring is like traveling on foot by contrast. Could anyone ever actually adapt to such instantaneous transport? Our ancestors got used to cars, but that use didn't require movement outside time. After centuries, we're still trying to acclimatize ourselves to the psychological ramifications of interstellar travel. I have to wonder if their technology was altering the thought processes of the Architects as much as genetic engineering was shifting their forms. And here we are, imagining we'll actually be able to understand something so alien. This must be the paramount of unreasonable expectations. And yet, why does this all feel so strangely familiar?_

The rate at which the scene on the monitors was changing was difficult for everyone to comprehend. It was like they were just looking at a series of snapshots someone had taken while hurtling toward the center of Leo 1. It was approximately impossible for most of them to believe that what they were witnessing was taking place in real time; since, by the strictest of definitions, it really was not. As a consequence, the clinched expressions on the faces of almost all the Organics made it look like they were helplessly plummeting down from the very top of the tallest rollercoaster ever invented. Eleanor thought it would probably have been amusing if it were not so worrisome.

"We're approaching the second objective," Poole announced. "It looks like there are several locations within this system where civilization was at least once seated. Is there a preference on which to examine first?"

Squinting at the display above the dais, in much the same way as he had just been regarding the monitors, Emilio asked, "Are those lunar bases above two of the worlds?"

"Yes," Poole replied. "Would you like to start there?"

"Yes, we might have some kind of advantage in an airless environment," he replied.

Unlike the seemingly disjointed jumps that had brought them within its otherworldly environs, the Griffin fluidly advanced into the system and then swept smoothly into orbit above the nearest of the alien moon bases. As they spiraled in towards the surface, they flew over several facilities that each had at least one transparent section. And in at least one of each of these, they recognized the telltale shimmer of the force field that they had seen enclosing the alien eggs.

"If even the off-world outposts were overrun, the planets are probably also infested," Sangria suggested.

"We'd better have a look nevertheless," Emilio instructed.

"The eggs don't react to Artificials," said Lentz. "One of us could go in and see if we can find out anything useful."

Looking first to Eleanor, and surprising her by doing so, Emilio asked, "What do you think?"

"From everything we've seen, it should be safe," she slowly answered.

"Okay, Lentz," the director concluded. "It was your idea. I'll let you be the one to go."

"Just be sure not to kick any of the eggs," Sangria jokingly added.

_I can't believe nothing was said about trying to bring back a genetic sample. And he passed on a perfectly good opportunity to collect a specimen in the last system. It makes no sense! What's his game plan?_

Poole promptly placed the Griffin on the surface and in close proximity to the largest of the sizable complexes. Lentz left the control room and headed toward the main airlock of the intergalactic ship. And moments later, he showed up on several of the monitors as he made his way across the remaining distance. His motions were obviously effortless in the low lunar gravity.

Using his internal transponder, Lentz began transmitting the images from his optical receptacles. As the monitors all simultaneously shifted over to reception of his signal, the change in perspective was disturbing. A petrified Architect was sprawled just outside the nearest of the airlocks, which was strangely standing open. His spacesuit had obviously been ripped open from the inside and, curiously, the cadaver was not wearing a helmet, apparently preferring death by decompression to the one he had very narrowly avoided.

Lentz entered the airlock from which the suicidal ejection had taken place. The inner door was sealed. The last user had seemingly closed it and then bypassed all the safety protocols, causing the outer hatch to open before depressurization had occurred. After a brief interface, the Artificial was able to enter the complex.

Whether the erupting parasitoid had entered another way and it was the result of its handiwork or not, Lentz could not tell; but the complex was as vacant of atmosphere as the surrounding lunar surface, and more bodies were soon to be seen along its darkling corridors. The Artificial engaged enhancement options in order to make these unsettling images viewable by the Organics in the audience – a courtesy they all could have easily done without.

For the sake of those listening, Poole electing to use an audio signal, instead of the transponder connection, advising his associate, "You're approaching the section where we saw the eggs. Exercise extreme caution. We're only assuming the Alien Queen that laid them has long since met her demise. But we might be mistaken."

"On the chance that our suspicions about the Predators are right," Lentz answered, "and Duff only drew fire because of being essentially armed, I thought it best not to bring along anything resembling a weapon. If I run into her majesty, I'll have to rely on superior speed to escape. So, you'd better be ready to dust-off and evacuate on my mark. There may not be much of a margin for error."

"We'll be ready," Poole supportively said. "Just don't try kicking her like Sangria did."

"I don't go around kicking things for no reason, like some people I know," Lentz said, demonstrating again the newfound knack for humor that all the Artificials now seemed to enjoy.

"Am I ever going to be able to live that down?" Sangria plaintively inquired, feigning a very convincing frown.

"Not in this lifetime, sister," Lentz laughed in reply.

"You'd better just hope you don't distinguish yourself in some memorable way," she said. "Turnabout is fair play, you know."

With that, Lentz arrived at the doorway that led into the compartment containing the eggs. After what seemed like a moment's hesitation, he interfaced with the control panel and caused the access to open. Through his eyes, everybody could see the catastrophic cluster and the shimmering field of force that surrounded it. He cautiously stepped inside the enclosure, but there was no reaction from its centralized and potentially fatal feature.

"As you can see, this is a junction where many corridors come together," Lentz said aloud. "I'm not sure if it was selected for its size or because it'd be impossible for anyone to get from one section of the complex to another without either going through it or going outside. Since the ceiling is transparent, it probably also facilitated social interaction. The outer wall is covered by access terminals. I'll see if I can get any useful information from one."

After a few minutes Lentz reported that the two ships, which were docked alongside the complex, had apparently both been infested. Each had come from the homeworld of the Architects. The manifest also indicated that a third such ship had proceeded directly to the planet about which the moon was in orbit. But there were no entries to explain the cause of the outbreak, not even in theory. It seemed as if the Architects who had lived in this system were clueless concerning the thing that unexpectedly destroyed them. Upon learning this, Poole told Lentz to return to the ship.

Although they were fairly certain of what they would find, Emilio instructed the flight team to take the Griffin inside the atmosphere of the system's primary planet. They were surprised to find however that its population of parasitoids was not nearly as impressive as what they had discovered in the previous system. It seemed as if the infestation might be eradicating itself. There was ample evidence of cannibalism.

"It looks to me like they're approaching extinction on this planet," Eleanor cautiously suggested. "It seems they're not immortal after all."

"Immortality is a practical impossibility," Poole stated with surprising sincerity. "Even galaxies die. And interstellar civilizations are certainly not immune to extinction either, as we can clearly see from what happened here. We've reason to believe that something of sentience survives, but by not restricting itself only to the dimensions we've been able to access. No physical form can endure indefinitely, not even those as wonderfully wrought as our artificial selves."

"Energy only changes form; it can't be destroyed," Jamul added. "Within every death something survives, even if that quantity is as yet the very definition of ineffable. Religion and science are simply different sides of the same mountain."

_I must remember to have that long talk with Jamul, but in somewhat more conducive a situation._

Abandoning their abhorrent outlook, they headed for the next primary shipping port along their route to the homeworld of the Architects. The control room of the Griffin was unusually quite as everyone watched the parsecs slip impossibly by. Nobody even made use of the amenities.

As they entered the next system, Poole took the opportunity to observe, "There are far fewer ports along this shipping lane and it is far shorter than any of the others in their display; which, as I'm sure you might have noticed, actually indicates hundreds of settled worlds. Cromacthulawas situated much further out in the edge of the cluster than any of the others although, because of the direction from which we entered, we encountered it first. Therefore, its infection may've been one of the most recent if the source was in fact their homeworld. As we get closer to that destination, we might be traveling along a type of timeline with regards to how the parasitoids ultimately affect a planet."

The world was a wasteland. Aside from the many crumbling structures, no evidence of life remained whatsoever. On their second orbit around the depopulated planet, Colin reported an aberrant indication on the surface.

"I don't know what it is," he admitted, "except that it's definitely metallic. I suppose it could've possibly been a delivery device for the infection if they actually represent some type of weapon. Maybe this was ground zero instead of the homeworld."

"Take us in for a closer look," said Emilio, looking to Poole.

Moments later, they were hovering above the remains of something that Colin finally identified as an enormous space station. The descending debris had harrowed hundreds of hectares of an otherwise unremarkable area that had once quite possibly represented the planet's prominent nature preserve since it looked like it had never been developed. They spent several long minutes scanning the artifact before it proved to be a pointless endeavor. At the end of the inane exercise Emilio ultimately instructed Poole to proceed to the homeworld of the Architects, although everyone was now understandably anxious about what they would find.

"Ever since the first days of spacefaring, explorers have been searching for a fabled treasure planet," the director reminded the group. "The Architects may have experienced extinction long ago, and their homeworld could surely hold many horrors, but it just might also be the repository of the answers to many questions for which science has long been searching. The time has come to plumb the depth of our resolve as researchers. Let's go make history."

The system containing the homeworld of the Architects was remarkably reminiscent of the one that surrounded the sun, particularly regarding the extent to which it had been colonized. Aside from the primary planet, which was earthlike in the extreme, there were four others that had apparently undergone extensive terra-forming in order to make them habitable. Mining operation had clearly been carried out on many of the moons that were orbiting the gas giants at the very outskirts of the system. Space stations and other types of orbital platforms were to be found around every planet and prominent planetoid.

None of the orbital artifacts or lunar installations gave any indications of occupation, nor did power appear to be present in any of these offworld locations. All the atmosphere processors had ceased operation so long ago that the four terra-formed worlds had each reverted to their earlier inhospitable states. And a closer inspection of the primary planet revealed that animal life was utterly absent from its expansive surface. Although all of its plant life had probably once been consumed, there'd apparently been enough dormant seeds that, after emerging, their descendents reclaimed their world. Lush jungle, utterly untamed, blanketed everything aboveground.

The incursion by the proliferation of plant life had helped to bring about the collapse of almost every standing structure, while all the lower-lying constructions were rendered virtually invisible by the verdant vegetation. It took a number of orbits before the crew of the Griffin could even determine where the centers of civilization had once been located.

After repeated passes however they detected a sizable area of compartmentalized pressure inside one of the obfuscated buildings. They immediately recognized that some type of access to the Architects' technology could have survived in such an environment, particularly when further scans revealed that power still possibly pulsed through some of the circuitry in the mysterious structure.

"Unfortunately, something else could've also possibly survived in such a pressurized compartment," Emilio suggested. "The team will obviously have to consist of at least one Artificial. I'm going to take the chance and go along, but I don't believe we should hazard more one other individual; so I need to know which member of the flight team is willing to accept the risk and if there's an Organic that's also as inclined."

Understanding the duplicity of the director, Poole accepted the assignment; and not unexpectedly it was Eleanor, who answered, "I'll go with you as well."

Emilio frowned affectedly before replying, "I'm very sorry. Your newfound knowledge might be advantageous. But if your condition were to deteriorate, you'd need to be close to Kalinda. I should've explained that you're exempted, at least from the first trip. Anyone else?"

"I'll go," Stanford finally said. "I haven't had as much exposure to their technology as some of the others, but I'm at least as interested."

"There's a small clearing on the building's northwest corner, Poole said," but there's not enough room to land the Griffin."

"Landing the ship probably wouldn't be advisable at this point," Eleanor said, looking up from her personal monitor. In the wake of Emilio's decision that she would not be able to go, something for which she had really expected him to have an excuse, she chose to deal with her disappointment by busying herself at her station. And by doing so, she had discovered something. "Plants didn't survive the parasitoids alone. There're also insects. Their endurance could indicate that they're dangerous. I'd recommend that you take the shuttle, wear environmental suits during the excursion, and leave a few fire extinguishers outside the shuttle as you're all exiting. You could use them to fumigate the fuselage and even yourselves before you reenter."

"The environmental suits are also advisable for other reasons," Kalinda added. "The atmosphere is perfectly suited for our requirements. But it's also teaming with numerous microorganisms about which we have as yet no knowledge."

"We should also stay on station right above the building so we can lend emergency assistance if required," Deacon added.

"Sounds like a plan," the director concluded. Looking to Poole and Stanford, he said, "Let's go get ready."

After the trio had exited the control room, Eleanor turned to Tan and candidly asked, "Do you think we have any reason to worry?"

"I wish I could reassure you, but I'm honestly not that certain," he admitted.

Looking closely at Eleanor, Kalinda asked, "Do you?"

Colin took note of the strange expression that once again manifested upon her face as she gazed at the monitor for a moment and shook her head before finally replying, "I'm not sure either. There's something almost frighteningly familiar about this place."

"I think your encounter with that last quantum resonation somehow gave you access to the same subspace energy field that the Architects seemingly learned to use," Kalinda suggested. "Don't hesitate to share your insights with us."

"It's like there's something right on the tip of my tongue, but I'm unable to articulate it," Eleanor hesitantly answered. "All I can say for sure is that I have this totally unsettling impression of something happening here that goes unbelievably beyond the inception of the parasitoids."

"Then you think they actually originated here?" Tan pressed.

"It's like they're only part of a much larger equation," she answered, "and I should be able to identify the other coefficients for you but I'm not yet awake enough to remember."

"You feel like you're waking up, like you're becoming fully conscious?" Colin asked.

"I think that does describe it," Sangria unexpectedly replied as she abruptly turned to Marco. "When you tried to determine if we might be malfunctioning, we lacked the proper point of reference for describing what we were experiencing. Eleanor just named it."

Since the ship was now at station keeping, most of the crewmembers had elected to unfasten themselves from the flight seats. No one failed to notice how Sangria gravitated toward Tan until she ultimately ended up with her artificial hand in his. This action served almost as an exclamation point at the end of her declaration.

"So, the same thing is happening to you and the other Artificials?" Kalinda asked, looking to Sangria.

"Similar but different," Chalice smilingly answered. "It's rather like both our races are growing toward a meeting point from different directions."

"And what exactly happens at that meeting point?" Marco asked, trying not to sound overly anxious about the answer.

"We achieve symbiosis," Deacon replied. "We actually become the means by which we can utterly interface."

"What would such an interface allow us to accomplish?" Colin asked, now becoming curious.

"We're like extensions of the ship itself," Lentz attempted to explain. "As such, we're limited in what can accomplish. If you were only licensed to drive a ground transport, you could probably get an aircraft to taxi. Through experimentation you might even be able to get it up into the air, but not safely. There'd be very little chance of an uneventful landing. Time travel is much the same way. We can technologically launch you into time, but only you can intuitively land us again. And that is why, at least for the present, if you'll excuse the pun, we're limited to contemporary translocation."

"However, it might not be long before Eleanor is able to help us travel through time," Deacon added.

"Whoa!" Eleanor exclaimed. She then appeared to have an epiphany before asking, "Wait a minute. I thought you said the derelict was traveling through time while it was on route to Earth. But if the Architects onboard were unconscious, how do you explain such a temporal translocation?"

"Whoever or whatever was responsible for programming that journey must have had a comparable ability," Terrance answered. "Of course the most acceptable answer would be a renegade Architect, but the record of that interface is unfortunately inconsistent with so innocuous an explanation."

"Since they've already demonstrated their unhealthy interest in the parasitoids," said Sangria, "our problematic supposition is that it was a Predator."

"Could we perhaps be looking at the aftermath of an intergalactic war?" Suki asked.

"The evidence does seem to support such a premise," Vladimir admitted, although it sounded to everybody as if the affirmation had been grudgingly given.

"If they're actually indigenous to our galaxy, the Predators pose quite a considerable problem," Chalice interjected.

"Unless the aliens were engineered by an outside party to be a weapon against both races, then it would seem like the Predators triumphed over a species whose technology was almost beyond imagining," Suki summarized.

"Although our understanding of them is admittedly limited," Terrance suggested, "the development and releasing of such a weapon seems quite inconsistent with the behavior we have observed in the Predators. Warriors tend to kill up close and not by proxy. And of course, if the Predators developed the parasitoids, there should have been no need to resort to space piracy to deploy them on Earth."

"You found nothing at all in the derelict's memory banks that offers an explanation to any of this?" Eleanor asked.

"No," Sangria sadly answered. "But whatever accessed the system and rerouted the ship could also have eradicated all such records. However, regarding the incident that involved the Earth, I was able to uncover something."

"You were?" Eleanor asked in surprise.

"Please understand," she insistently answered. "Poole had no option of not reporting something so significant to the director, even though we were worried about the possible consequences. While you were all involved in the final outfitting of the Griffin, he had me return to the Centaur and execute an exhaustive search of its data banks, an interface that was far from fruitless."

"What did you find?" asked Tan, suddenly understanding the reason she had briefly been absent.

"Had I not been an Artificial, I'd have never circumvented the safeguards installed to prevent access to the relevant records," she answered. "And I might've never suspected their existence if someone hadn't accessed them recently. There is a classified file about the island to which the derelict was being rerouted. Years before the merger that created the well-known Weyland-Yutani Corporation, the CEO of Weyland Industries inexplicably disappeared during an expedition to that selfsame island. There was a sole survivor, and the story she told was quite incredible."

"A sole survivor with an unbelievable account, just where have I heard that before?" Eleanor mused aloud.

"It does sound rather remarkably familiar, doesn't it," Colin asked in agreement.

"As I was saying," Sangria said; "she claimed that the team descended to an ancient pyramid that had been revealed by a thermal bloom in a satellite image, a satellite that of course belonged to the Weyland Corporation. In the course of the incursion, according to her account, they encountered two different types of aliens. One type apparently needed human sacrifices in order to reproduce. The other type was there for the hunt. They were worshipped by the people who built the pyramid, who considered them to be gods."

"They wanted to be worshipped," Eleanor interrupted, "while requiring some of their subjects to sacrifice themselves?"

"Sounds almost demonic," Jamul interjected before Sangria could comment.

She perceptibly paused before replying, "Interesting observation. Maybe you'll recall that I referred to records, pleural. More than one report was referenced in that file. There was also an account from a commando whose team accepted a mission which had been deliberately misrepresented to them. They ended up pitted against an alien creature that systematically hunted them down one-by-one. A local woman, whom they'd picked up in the course of their campaign, called it _the demon that makes trophies of men_."

"What happened?" Tan asked.

"Of course, the military wanted to reject his account," she answered, "but there was no other way to explain an atomic explosion in the middle of the jungle. The woman also escaped, and she corroborated his explanation of what had happened."

"An atomic explosion?" Colin asked.

"The commando claimed that, when fatally injured, the alien warrior used some kind of self-destruct device," she responded.

After everybody was momentarily silenced by this announcement, Suki said, "It's the Samurai way. This is consistent with what we've come to believe about their culture."

"What about the woman on the Antarctic island? How did that turn out?" Tan asked, steering the conversation back to its original subject.

"Probably for the purposes of plausible deniability, even though they could've easily substantiated at least part of her story, Weyland Industries tried to discredit her instead," she replied. "Luckily for her, the aliens had given her an artifact; a weapon composed of a metal that still has yet to be identified. As a consequence, there was quite an intensive investigation. A multinational team examined the site where she claimed a circular shaft had miraculously opened overnight. They found no evidence of such an excavation. She described an explosion that the alien warrior had used to help them escape and prevent anything else from doing so, saying the intense heat must've melted the surrounding ice and resealed the shaft. The team attempted to drill back down to the depth at which she said the pyramid was situated. But the deeper they drilled, the more radiation they found. The island was consequently quarantined. Because it was on inhabited Earth, instead of some planetoid in the outskirts of scarcely occupied space, that quarantine still remains in force."

Terrance directed their attention back to the main monitors. Between suiting up and an argument among its members about whether or not to bring weapons, the shuttle had just landed inside the clearing at the northwest corner of the otherwise plant-enshrouded structure. As the trio of explorers emerged, they each brought out a fire extinguisher and placed it in proximity to the shuttle. Having done this, they began looking for a way inside the alien edifice. It quickly became clear that the challenge exceeded their expectations.

"Poole, see if there isn't some kind of access near the center of the rooftop," Eleanor instructed.

For reasons she could not explain, not even to herself, she was sure the roof would feature such a facet. And she was not the least surprised when, after several minutes of pulling plants aside, Poole stepped back to reveal a large rectangular indentation. There was also evidence of an interface situated along one side of the suggestive symbol. In a matter of moments, the android leader had persuaded the aperture to open. An elevator obediently rose to the rooftop as the doors slid aside. The three explorers paused to look questioningly at each other before finally filing inside the confines of the conveyance.

As the elevator descended into the depths of the immense structure, Poole used the same option that Lentz had employed andbegan to transmit the images from his optical receptacles to the main monitors on the Griffin. Everybody watched as the baffling levels slid by. The director apparently preferred to begin at the building's bottom and then work his way up.

However, they did not make it all the way to the structure's subbasement before the director instructed Poole to stop at their current level. Everyone could easily see Emilio's gesture and the instantaneous response from Poole. The transparent shaft had revealed that the level through which they were passing incorporated an amount of space equal to at least several of the previous floors, making it perceptibly primary. As if to reinforce this perception, illumination activated throughout the spacious expanse in anticipation of their expected entrance. Arresting their descent, they stepped out into the abruptly lit level.

"As you can see, we've apparently reached the main level of whatever this place is," Emilio explanatorily said. "I'd certainly be willing to entertain any ideas."

"The exceptionally lofted ceilings certainly suggest that it's an area for some kind of communal gathering," said Eleanor, scrutinizing the display. "However, the seating is far too random for something like a lecture hall, and the chairs don't even all face the same direction. Those certainly look like some comfortable chairs. Are those monitors of some kind on the tables next to them?"

Poole moved closer to one of the mysterious stations, which appeared to have been designed for nothing more than luxuriant lounging, replying, "Yes, terminals and screens are adjacent to each of the seats. This facility may've been an enormous data repository. Its users seemingly reclined in these seats while accessing its information."

"You've got to be kidding me! It's a library!" Stanford suddenly exclaimed. "It's got to be the most enormous one I've ever heard of, but that's what it has to be!"

"This lobby must've been for the patrons who only needed to electronically interface with their data," Emilio observed. "Whatever passed for hard copies in their society must be stored on the other levels. We can probably find out everything we hoped to discover about their civilization in this one place, if we can just figure out how it's referenced."

"I suppose you're going to need me to masquerade as your intergalactic library card then?" Poole jokingly asked.

"Let's just hope the system doesn't mistake you for anybody with an overdue book!" Stanford teased before Emilio could answer. "Can you imagine the kind of penalty you'd have to pay after so many thousands of years?"

"Such a system might be significantly different from the Griffin's, but I should be able to decipher it and find the information we're looking for if allowed a little time," Poole said to Emilio and Stanford. "It should be safe enough for the two of you to continue exploring the structure. Since I haven't even seen any insects, I think we can conclude that it's still sealed. Give me a moment and I'll get an atmospheric reading."

Using a portable device that had been given to him by Kalinda, the Artificial took and tested a sample of the air, finally saying, "The pressure is still steady. That elevator must also work as an airlock. Since I'm not even detecting any airborne pathogens, I think you can go ahead and take your helmets off."

Eleanor used the communications system to ask, "So you're going to try and access the library's data banks while you're partners continue exploring, Poole?"

"We should be okay, Eleanor," Emilio interjected.

"Understood," she replied. "But we're going to be losing our eyes down there, so just be sure you and Stanford keep your mics open."

"Affirmative," Emilio rolled his eyes at Stanford as he answered – a gesture that was lost on Eleanor. "We're moving on now."

While Poole plugged himself into one of the terminals, Stanford and Emilio removed their helmets. At a nod from the director, the telemetry expert headed off in the indicated direction and returned to the elevator. It was still standing open and apparently waiting to receive them. Upon entering it however they were disappointed to understand that they lacked the capacity to even close its doors. Without the Artificial's assistance, the device was absolutely useless to them; but Emilio accurately concluded that there had to be an emergency stairway somewhere, and after several minutes of exploration they were able to locate it. Since it was mainly for emergencies, the door to the stairwell opened without the need for a biometric interface.

As Stanford stepped onto the landing and turned to the director questioningly, Emilio indicated his desire to descend, saying, "I still want to see what's below us. If we can find something as user-friendly as a museum in this place, we might be able to get a glimpse of their history without waiting for Poole to explain everything to us."

"Sounds good to me," Stanford affirmatively answered as he turned and daringly led the way down into the unexplored depths of the alien structure.

Reaching the next landing, they opened the door and peered into the recesses of its level. Almost as if it had magically materialized in accordance with his whim, there was a museum. Leaving the relative security of the stairwell, they strolled between the aisles of alien exhibits. The degree of animation that had been imparted to all the representations was almost beyond their ability to believe. It seemed to them to be much more like a zoo than a museum.

Their capacity for description was tested to the limit as they attempted to explain the displays to their associates on the ship. Stanford was sure their process somehow relied on holograms, but the director doubted the prudence of putting his theory to the test. The viewing area was very obviously separated from the displays. If the presentation process were inadvertently interrupted by their investigation, they might require the services of an Artificial to restore it. This would be completely counterproductive to the idea behind their independent exploration. They wandered the aisles for quite some time, marveling at the remarkable realism of the animated images.

The next level down housed similar representations. From the various environments in which their occupants were depicted, it was quite apparent that the animal populations of many different planets were represented; however, they were all strangely reminiscent of animals on Earth. In fact, this was true to such an extent that Emilio thought Tan might have suggested that an application of genetic engineering to such indigenous organisms could have produced such results. They were once more confronted with a phenomenon that the concept of parallel development seemed powerless to explain. They abandoned the disturbing displays and descended to the next level.

Emerging from the stairwell, they instantly noticed that its exhibits were of a different nature entirely. Whereas those in the previous two levels had looked alive, although they were merely animations, these displays contained creatures that had once actually been alive and were now held in suspended animation. By comparison, their appearance was of something hideously deceased. In addition, each had the distinct suggestion of having been exceedingly dangerous. The two men could only conjecture that the Architects had preserved them for future study. They instinctively passed with silence between the rows of disturbing displays.

As they reached the furthest end of the unsettling exhibits, they discovered one with which they were unfortunately familiar. Within the field of shimmering suspension was a pair of alien eggs. Stanford reflexively shrank from the arresting sight, but Emilio merely stopped right where he was. It was several more moments before either man moved.

"Now I understand this level," the director softly announced. "The Architects seem to have shared our ever-present fascination with the fatal."

Stanford hesitated before deciding to take the chance and then conspiratorially said, "We both know that this is what you were really hoping to find. But now that you've found it, how can we hope to exploit the discovery?"

Turning to Stanford, the director raised his right forefinger as if he were about to say something; but then, utilizing an expertise in the martial arts that the telemetry expert did not even know he possessed, Emilio struck him directly in the diaphragm and folded him to the floor. Extracting a laser scalpel, which Kalinda never even knew was missing from her new infirmary, Emilio then moved around to what appeared to be an access panel on the side of the display. Although he failed to remove the panel, his attempt to employ the scalpel for that purpose resulted in the severing of some of the enclosed circuitry.

As the force field fell, he briefly turned back to Stanford, who was still trying to catch his breath, and said, "Let's hope Kalinda is as good as she thinks she is. Don't worry. I'm not making you go through this alone. I never ask anyone to do something I wouldn't."

Turning back to the alien eggs, Emilio shut his eyes and tried not to think about what would soon happen. Being an entirely unwilling participant, Stanford refused to succumb without a struggle; but even the most determined resistance was meaningless. Both men were quickly rendered unconscious as they were implanted with alien embryos.

Far away in the labyrinth of the library, and acutely interconnected with every aspect of its mechanical consciousness, Poole immediately became aware that the most critical safety measure in the entire facility had just malfunctioned. Until that moment he had not known about the parasitoid sample, although he had already achieved an understanding of its designer's motivations for bringing the affliction into being. He quickly disconnected himself from the terminal and rushed to learn the reason for so dreadful a failure.

He found his comatose comrades with the face-huggers still attached. Although they had been held in suspended animation for eons, the two arachnids quickly accomplished their demonic purpose and died. As they lifelessly slid from the faces of their two violated victims, Poole used his com-link to contact the Griffin.

"Griffin, this is Poole. Emilio and Stanford have both been infected. There was a pair of eggs in suspended animation. Somehow the field failed. I have yet to determine how it happened, but the circumstances are certainly suspicious. I think someone was counting on Kalinda's compulsory assistance to help him replace his precious parasitoid sample," Poole said.

"We'd lost contact with them but weren't sure what to think. We'd hoped the depth of the facility was somehow interfering with our communication. What are you going to do?" Eleanor asked after several seconds of silence.

As the emitter array revealed the expected evidence of tampering to his perfunctory inspection, he replied, "I'm going to try to wake them up and ask them what happened."

Poole applied his efforts to Emilio first. The director was dreadfully difficult to arouse but eventually came around. He seemed extremely disoriented and confused at first. But Poole was hardly sympathetic to his situation.

"What have you done?" the android demanded.

Staring with revulsion at the remains of the monster that had only just fallen from his face, Emilio skillfully skirted his question, saying instead, "You have to get us back to the Griffin. Kalinda is our only hope. We've no time to waste."

Poole however very unexpectedly replied, "Then you had better see if you can wake up Stanford up and follow me just as quickly as you can."

Without a word of explanation, the Artificial then turned and suddenly sprinted away. Misunderstanding the android's actions, Emilio did as suggested and roused Stanford to wakefulness. Awakening in the nightmarish aftermath, Stanford was candidly combative. If he hadn't recently become aware that Emilio was skilled in the martial arts, his hostility would almost certainly have escalated into a full-fledged fight. But all their energies were needed in order to pursue Poole, who had surprisingly disappeared. All attempts to raise him with the com-links went unexplainably unanswered.

Arriving on the rooftop by means of the stairwell, although they had to force the door open against the overgrowth, they could see that the fire extinguishers had already been discharged. The shuttle was covered in fire-retardant residue and none of the containers were upright any longer. They picked each up in succession, expecting to find enough of the material to spray themselves off as Eleanor had suggested, but the receptacles were surprisingly empty. Emilio approached the airlock and found that it had been sealed from the inside. Poole was looking out at him through the portal.

"Open this damned door!" the director shouted into his com-link. "Your programming forbids you to let anything happen to us!"

"It is impossible for me to harm or, by omission of action, allow a human being to be harmed," Poole recited. "I guess you've not considered the consequences if I save you."

"What the hell do you mean?" Emilio demanded.

"The Predators will prevent us from returning if we've any parasitoids aboard," Poole replied. "But if they should fail to intercept us, which I indubitably doubt, the embryos you two are transporting will propel humanity down the same path of destruction that claimed the lives of the Architects. In the first scenario, everybody on the Griffin gets killed. But in the second, you exterminate humanity. My programming allows for neither eventuality."

"You can't leave us here! It would be murder!" Stanford screamed, abruptly realizing what the Artificial was saying.

"The record of everything you have done here will be downloaded immediately upon your return," Emilio reminded the Artificial. "If you kill us, you'll never be able to go back."

"I'm not going to kill you, but I don't have to save you either," Poole replied. "I cannot be responsible for a sacrifice that would simply prolong your survival and at such horribly reprehensible an expense. Goodbye, Director Esperanza. I'm sorry, Stanford. I truly am."

The sorrowful face of the Artificial disappeared from the portal. A few moments later, the shuttle's engines ignited and the spacecraft rose from the rooftop. Its flight recorders captured the suicidal plunge as Stanford hurled himself from the lofty edge of the library. Emilio ineffectually flung his com-link at the disappearing ship. But nobody on the Griffin knew what to say to him anyway. They looked on in subdued silence until his shape had receded into utter ambiguity. Some tears were shed, but they were all for Stanford.

**Chapter 10**

_**The Devil in the Details**_

Since no one else seemed certain of what to say to Poole about what had happened on the planet, such commentary automatically became Marco's responsibility. Due to the transponder connection that existed between them, the synthetics expert knew that each of the other Artificials were all intrinsically aware of the precepts that had shaped Poole's decision. But since it seemed nonsensical in the extreme to have the discussion with any of them, Marco made his way to the shuttle bay to await the android leader's return.

As the shuttle was still in the process of docking, all of the intergalactic spacecraft's other crewmembers began to filter into the adjacent area. Apparently, although each had passed on the opportunity to interrogate the returning Artificial, they nevertheless wanted to attend the examination. Marco soon found himself flanked by Eleanor and Kalinda.

"We saw almost everything through the monitors," he informatively said to Poole as the Artificial came through the airlock at the back of the shuttle bay. "But we need for you to explain your decision to sacrifice Stanford and the director."

"I doubt very much that the Predators would've even allowed me to bring them back aboard in their compromised conditions," Poole replied, "a thing for which the company's basic quarantine law also allowed no exceptions; even though Emilio apparently failed to figure it into his scheme."

"That doesn't keep the doctor from making a house call," Kalinda interjected, "which Stanford unfortunately failed to consider. But Emilio's infestation could quite conceivably be extracted. The library should afford an adequately controlled environment in which to carry out the procedure. It's a simple matter of mobilizing the required equipment. There is no reason the director has to die. And the Hippocratic Oath I took doesn't allow me to just abandon him. Since the parasitoid will need to be destroyed upon removal, and may even be immediately dangerous, I should probably only be escorted by Artificials. I must insist however that our duty in this matter is clear. Who is going to assist me?"

"It would be exceedingly unwise to attempt a return to the surface," Poole cautioned. "There are aspects of our situation about which I have only just become aware, and they impinge upon the prospects of your survival. In fact, I just spent the entire trip back trying to decide how best to share this information – of which all the other Artificials are already aware."

"What are you talking about?" Marco carefully inquired.

Poole paused perceptibly before finally replying, "The Architects represent what will become of the human race. And it was one of them who developed the parasitoids."

Eleanor looked at the floor, exhaling sharply and nodding her head, but Colin asked, "What?"

"I know Sangria has already shared with you what she discovered in the data banks of the Centaur," the android leader admitted. "At the very least, the Predators have been intermittently active on Earth for thousands of years. The way they interact with humanity has altered over time. Whereas they once were worshipped, which they ominously seem to have encouraged, they now hunt humans for sport – an activity of which humanity will become increasingly aware. Over the next hundred thousand years, while your technical prowess as a race is increasing, humankind will begin to resist this pastime in earnest."

"You're talking about interstellar war, aren't you?" Colin interjected.

"It is a war in which human beings will engage throughout every corner of the space they occupy," Poole replied, "but it won't be a war between specific star systems. In fact, it's because they never succeeded in identifying a star system from which the Predators originated that they finally elected to use their newly developed translocation technology and leave the Milky Way galaxy altogether, transplanting the entire civilization to Leo 1."

"So even with technology a hundred thousand years more advanced, humanity just put its tail between its legs and left?" Jamul asked.

"It was a feint," Poole slowly responded. "The Predators did not seem to appreciate that this technology also represented an ability to travel through time. The fear was that if they found out, they'd escalate their campaign until they'd brought about the extinction of the human race. Humanity had also developed something they called the _membrane_. It made possible the prevention of trespass by the Predators into their specially secured areas and came to be incorporated into all their structures. It was a precursor to the skin of their translocation ships. However, since we were not aware of this application of their technology, we unfortunately failed to give the Griffin any such facility."

"But they'd discovered a way to keep secrets from the Predators and then they used it to escape beyond their grasp?" Eleanor asked.

"The plan was much more involved. But they needed time to carry it out. The further humanity ventured into outer space, the more the Predators increased their campaign. It was assumed that this was simply to prevent the discovery of their homeworld's location. And for this reason, humanity's mass exodus to Leo 1 was also a translocation a million years into the past. They hoped to find out where the Predators had originated and then destroy them before they ever arose as a species," Poole replied. "If they could actually accomplish this, then they could reclaim the Milky Way."

"That was an ambitious undertaking," said Suki. "But since the Architects apparently passed into extinction and the Predators still persist, I have to assume it didn't work out."

"That's correct," Sangria took the opportunity to agree. "The very first foray back into the Milky Way galaxy ran right into the Predators, apparently waiting for them – although it was almost a million years before what had been the initial encounter. And that's when it became an intergalactic war, which went on for something like twenty thousand years."

"That's why the image of Leo 1 seemed contemporary!" Jamul exclaimed. "A million years minus a hundred and twenty thousand years exactly offsets the eight hundred and eighty thousand light year distance."

"Right again," Sangria sorrowfully agreed. "But the additional twenty thousand years did not amount to any improvement in the situation. Despite all their advancements, they still could not discover the inception point of the Predators – which was their only chance for winning the war. They began to believe that the enemy was actually interdimensional, that the Predators were essentially nonphysical and somehow engineered forms for their occupation out of whatever materials were readily available. But since they could only be conquered as corporeal creatures, humans had to rely on weapons research. A hundred and twenty thousand years of technical advancement was therefore turned to the task of finding more efficient ways to take life. And please keep in mind that genetic engineering had become far more sophisticated than anything you're currently capable of imagining."

"Even if they were the very definition of demonic as the Architects began to believe," said Poole, picking up the explanation at a signal from Sangria, "the only possible way to overpower the Predators was by developing superior weaponry. And as advanced as the Architects had become by that time, this equated to an extremely targeted use of genetic engineering. For that reason they deliberately bred criminal masterminds for the express purpose of imagining a means by which they could eliminate their indomitable enemy. In order to win their duel with devil, they dangerously dredged the most diabolical depths of their own depravity. One of the progeny they produced with this perilous project became convinced that some kind of biological weapon represented the ultimate answer. He was afforded free reign in its development. The Architects were never able to determine if he foolishly ignored certain safeguards or the Predators somehow learned about the project and acted preemptively, but there was an accident."

"And this is how the parasitoids were created?" Kalinda asked.

"Not directly," Poole patiently replied. "The Architects were understandably afraid of the disease he'd designed, since the antidote was not yet isolated. They imprisoned him on a ship with all the equipment that he might require for determining and manufacturing the remedy, and they sent him into intergalactic space; but the Predators picked him up."

"I don't like where this is going," Kalinda interjected.

"You must understand that he felt forsaken and utterly ostracized by everybody he'd trusted," Sangria explained. "Even as his handiwork was destroying them, the Architects were able to piece together what had happened. Forced into the service of the insidious, he began working on a doomsday weapon; something he intended to destroy both sides. He succeeded in finding a cure for his disease; but the Predators only let him synthesize enough of the antidote to keep it in remission, not enough to completely heal himself. He was in constant agony. In order to bring about an end to his torment, he used himself as the incubator for the first parasitoid – an Alien Queen. He had also infected every one of the test animals in his lab. So, as he was dying in the Predators' makeshift infirmary, the animals were releasing parasitoids in another section of the complex. This outbreak was so significant that some of them survived by smuggling themselves onboard spaceships and escaping. Since the Predators' hidden complex was buried beneath the surface of a backwater world in Leo 1, the outcome was probably inevitable. And once the Predators became aware of what was happening, they actually helped the parasitoids spread."

"That's why they didn't want the aliens to get loose in contemporary time in the Milky Way galaxy," Tan interrupted. "They could've destroyed us before we created them. Wait a minute. That's a temporal paradox."

"Nonetheless, your conclusion must be basically correct," Sangria agreed. "Although they were also targeted for eradication by the parasitoids, the Predators applauded what the renegade Architect had done. He had given them a worthy adversary. They probably got a sick sense of satisfaction from conducting their safaris on ancient Earth, employing the people whose descendants would one day create the creatures for whom they were serving as suicidal hosts. To the Predators, the parasitoids represent humankind's most supreme accomplishment. And since humanity had also demonstrated an ability to travel through time and to act so secretively in unison, they embarked on a course deliberately intended to bring about its extinction. In providing them with so superior a replacement to prey upon instead, they saw humankind as having fulfilled its function."

"But what you've cleverly avoided admitting is that the Predators must also possess the technology for time travel," Jamul interjected.

Sangria slowly nodded as she said, "And the fact they would employ it for so sinister a purpose also unfortunately lends credibility to the idea that they're actually demonic."

"Be that as it may," said Poole, "the parasitoids were deliberately designed to be the decisive biological weapon. They are able to use any life form of substantial size for their reproductive purposes, including the Predators. This explains why they were engineered to incorporate all the advantages of the host, and it's also the reason they were designed to defeat detection. The Predators employ a different range of visual perception. Had the parasitoids lacked this ability, the Predators could have possibly detected their embryos unaided."

"So the Predators helped the parasitoids exterminate the Architects, after which they even used some of our ancient ancestors as hosts to be harvested," Colin very concisely concluded. "But where are they now? Were they present on the planet? Are they orbiting around it, perhaps right beside us? Do we run a risk if someone returns to the surface to try and save Emilio? If they understand how much we've discovered here, are we maybe even taking a chance if we simply try to return to our own galaxy?"

"I have no answer to your initial question," Poole replied. "But my response to all the others is: quite possibly. I should point out that even if we could retrofit the Griffin with an approximation of the membrane; it wouldn't altogether keep them out, it would only alert us to their incursion. One obviously boarded the derelict and changed its course after the death of its crew."

"I cannot base a life or death decision on your unsubstantiated conjectures!" Kalinda emotionally exclaimed. "I can no more allow them to dictate my options than the fact that I don't even like the man! There should still be time to save Emilio and I am compelled to make the attempt! But I can't pilot the shuttle! I need at least one Artificial to fly me to the surface!"

Poole paused before finally saying, "I'll send Terrance, Lentz, Vladimir, and Deacon with you. You might require help in disposing of the parasitoid after extraction; and if you take along anything that resembles a weapon, you might just be asking for trouble. You'll have to rely on their speed and strength instead, whatever happens. Don't forget that the director knowingly endangered the life of the telemetry specialist. If he should survive, he is to be taken into custody and treated as a criminal. Don't take any chances with him. It is completely possible that he's anticipated his potential rescue and adjusted his scheme accordingly."

"I'm only too well aware of that," Kalinda admitted, sounding much more emotionally composed now that everybody unmistakably understood her duty. She nodded to all four of the Artificials, whom Poole had named, and the five adventurers filed out of the control room. There were several moments of silence before discussions finally resumed.

"Please understand, Poole, that I didn't disagree with your decision, even before you pointed out the company's quarantine protocol," Suki said. "But if they somehow manage to save Emilio, he's going to nail you to the wall. Stanford committed suicide. So he can't exactly bring charges against the director for endangering him. But the flight recorder will provide clear evidence of you disobeying a direct order and in conceivable contravention of your most primary programming. I wish you'd referred to the quarantine decree in that portion of your conversation. I am very concerned about what might happen to you if we go back."

"I'm very concerned about what might happen to all of us if any of us try to go back," Jamul admitted, squeezing her hand as he did. "And since they prize the parasitoids as prey, I'm even more worried about what the Predators will do when they realize Emilio's issue is about to be exterminated. But I could think of no way to countermand Kalinda's compassionate prerequisite."

"Assuming they're successful and the Predators elect not to interfere with the effort," Colin interjected, "is there really any chance that they'll also allow us to escape with what we've already learned here? And if we use his criminal conduct as the ultimate excuse to mutiny against Emilio and we confiscate the Griffin, what other course of action could we take to possibly preserve our lives?"

"The M31 galaxy is apparently unexplored, but the Architects obviously believed that it would adequately absorb the mass exodus of their sizable civilization," Poole replied.

"Not go back?" Suki asked. "You think we should really entertain that as an option?"

"It might provide the precise type of appeasement the Predators would appreciate," Marco mused. "It would symbolize our surrender."

"But as long as we have the Griffin, we could conceivably go back from anywhere to any when," Eleanor objected. "I'm sure their leniency would be conditional."

"If we find some place we can live, we might have to destroy the Griffin," Marco said.

"Disregarding for the moment how unwilling I am to take part in such destruction, I'm not sure it's even within our ability to achieve," Colin countered. "This ship's now become self-sustaining. It took an atomic explosion to destroy the derelict, and that was only after it'd undergone decay for what might have amounted to millennia."

"If we simply evacuate the vessel, the Predators might understand our intention and take care of that for us," Chalice suggested. "Failing that, we could probably drain all the power from its systems and demonstrate its dormancy to their satisfaction."

"But this is all guesswork!" Eleanor insisted. "It would be a lot easier if we could just communicate with them."

"We're only assuming otherwise," Chalice surprised her by answering. "We might be communicating with one right now if the shuttle contained an invisible occupant. We still have no way to definitively detect them. It might actually be more realistic to assume that we're all under surveillance."

"Thank you for that!" Tan sarcastically exclaimed.

Returning to Marco's comment, Poole explained, "While company policy prohibits us from participating in the appeasement of terrorists, my principal concern is the survival of my shipmates; so, although I'm still essentially an agent of that organization, my integrity compels me to pursue the only available option to accomplish our continued existence. It might mean that we'll wind up interminably marooned on an idyllic world in a fantastically far flung galaxy, but I'm sure you will all agree that it's infinitely preferable to the fatalistic alternative."

While Poole was speaking, Chalice moved across the control room in order to stand beside him. As he finished, she said, "Before we were affected by the so-called quantum resonations, we were incapable of even imagining an existence apart from the company. That's no longer the case. Some of us have found much more meaning in the forming of other more intimate associations."

Everybody observed how Chalice allowed her gaze to rest on Sangria and the hand she had placed in that of the geneticist as Chalice also slipped her hand into Poole's. No one said a word for awhile. Marco chuckled while looking to Savvy, who moved to stand beside him. Suki smiled and leaned against Jamul, who responded with a brief embrace. And Colin practically laughed out loud as he noticed the amused look in Eleanor's eyes. It was several more minutes before a signal from the shuttle, now on the surface, finally interrupted their reverie and brought them back to the immediacy of the moment. And it was a few more moments before Poole finally responded.

As the shuttle closed on the library, Terrance steered the ship in low and executed a slow sweep around the structure. They quickly located Stanford's remains, but they were disappointed to discover that the telemetry expert's body had burst open from the inside. Kalinda could only hypothesize that the embryo had erupted prematurely in response to the narcosis of its host. Because a stream passed close by the site, she also anticipated that the hatchling was already of substantial size. She informed the Griffin about the find.

Subsequently landing on the library's rooftop, she was scarcely excited about being only the fourth contemporary person to step foot on what had become humankind's new homeworld. Not surprisingly, Emilio tried to force his way onto the shuttle as soon as its doors opened. It took all four Artificials to restrain him.

"We need to get all this equipment into the library just as quickly as we can," Kalinda told him, "so I can set up an operating area. There isn't adequate room for performing an extraction in the shuttle. If there's any possible way, I'll save you and get you back to the Griffin. But your love-child won't be going along, and I am afraid Stanford's is already on the loose."

She was reassured to see the silent acceptance in his eyes as Emilio asked in reply, "What did Poole find out about this complex?"

"About a hundred thousand years from when we left it, and due to increasing conflict with the Predators, humanity left the Milky Way and became the Architects," she replied.

"So this is the answer to all the riddles," Emilio mused aloud as he accepted an item to carry to the elevator. "But where did the Predators come from, and which side created the parasitoids?"

"Despite a translocation that took their entire civilization a million years into the past, the Architects were never able to answer that question," Kalinda answered as she came along behind him with a parcel of her own. "They finally concluded that the Predators are inter-dimensional beings who use some type of template to fabricate forms that they can occupy in this dimension. If you saw the classified files about the subject on the Centaur, then you know of the temple under the Antarctic island and that they've been part of our history for as long as we've had one. They behave as if they are the very embodiment of ultimate evil. In fact even the Artificials, who're all expert when it comes to religion, seem to deem them demonic."

Emilio paused in mid-stride and regarded her doubtfully before finally asking, "What about the xenomorphic parasitoids?"

"After engaging in intergalactic combat for something like twenty thousand additional years, the Architects used their extremely sophisticated genetic engineering technique to create mad geniuses whose task was to imagine a means of winning the war," she softly said. "After being accidentally exposed to a biological weapon on which he was working, one of the products of their project was placed in a ship, containing all the equipment he might need to find a cure, and exiled into intergalactic space. There, he was captured by the Predators, who forced him into their service. He did find a cure for his illness, but the Predators never let him synthesize the serum in sufficient quantity to totally heal himself. Being in perpetual pain and believing himself abandoned by his people, he designed the parasitoids to destroy both sides."

"I guess that only worked out halfway," Emilio observed as they all stepped into the elevator and Lentz initiated their descent.

"The Predators apparently reverence the parasitoids as the ultimate prey," she said. "But they couldn't let the aliens get loose in the Milky Way and destroy us before we had even created them. That would've resulted in a temporal paradox."

"That's the hypothetical problem with time travel," he agreed. He then paused before adding, "If they were responsible for sending the parasitoids to the Milky Way galaxy and that action resulted in such a paradoxical occurrence, it's just possible that the Predators would be destroyed as a result."

"That's wonderful," she lackadaisically agreed. "But wouldn't it mean the eradication of the entire human race as well?"

"It would as far as the Milky Way is concerned and probably Leo 1 as well," he said in reply. "We'd need to have a presence established somewhere else in order to survive as a species. But these hunters are too cautious. They'd have to be irresponsibly sloppy for such a thing to happen, especially if they understand the genocidal consequences."

"As I'm sure they do; they certainly don't seem to miss much," she replied. And then, unaware of the discussion that had taken place on the ship after their departure, but very aware of the possible religious parallel, she rhetorically asked, "So you think that by their interference in human affairs these demons may've damned themselves?"

Smiling contritely, he said, "And all the rest of us along with them, unless some way of escape is opened for a remnant of our race."

With that, they arrived at the subbasement where Emilio and Stanford had found the eggs. Surprised to see that it was there destination, Emilio asked, "Why did you bring us down here? There's more room in the library proper."

Indicating with a gesture that he should exit the elevator, she answered, "I am afraid we're running out of time. Poole thought we could probably repair the stasis field emitter. The damage you caused was to a single circuit board. It would seriously simplify matters if he's right. But don't worry. I still intend to use anesthesia. We don't know if suspension and unconsciousness are actually the same thing."

"I appreciate that," he admitted. "And I'd rather not know if this doesn't work out."

"You won't," she assured him, although it seemed to him as if there might have been ominous undertones in her statement.

Looking up from his readout, Terrance sounded distinctly concerned to say, "There's no longer a difference between the pressure inside and outside the structure. The seal's somehow been compromised."

"It could've been caused by the thing that came out of Stanford," Deacon suggested. "It might've forced its way in here."

"This structure survived the collapse of the Architects' civilization and the nameless millennia that followed," Kalinda objected. "Why would a newborn parasitoid decide that it needed to get in here?"

"If it used its acid to destroy the stasis field emitters, these displays might represent quite a substantial food source," Deacon replied.

"You're suggesting it would have access to the memories of its host?" she asked in disbelief.

"Eleanor never determined which aspects of the host's characteristics were copied," he evenly answered. "I think it's most expedient for us to assume that our perimeter may not be completely secure."

"If it was hungry, why didn't it just go after Emilio?" she asked.

"He's a host," Vladimir simply replied.

If it was only because the acoustics had been altered by the emptying of the case at the aisle's other end, he could not tell; but unlike the noiseless stroll he and Stanford had taken before in the same setting, it now seemed to the director as if his footsteps echoed portentously.

"Just try to relax," Kalinda instructed, seeming to sense his unease. "It'll only take us a couple of minutes to get things set up. I can give you a tranquilizer if you'd like, but my time would be better spent preparing for the procedure. I need the Artificials to repair the emitter, so I have to do some of this without their assistance. Just be sure to let me know if you start experiencing any pain, especially if it's associated with your chest."

"I can help you get set up for the procedure," he offered as the four Artificials turned their attention to the recently damaged emitter array.

"Thanks, but I don't think any additional activity is really advisable for you right now," she replied, punctuating her statement with a tight-lipped smile.

"Right," he ungratefully groaned.

"I think we can fix this," Terrance announced. "But I also think we should establish a boundary around the operating area. If there's a parasitoid loose in this place, there may also be Predators on the prowl. We need to keep from getting swept up in their safari."

"Since she's the only uninfected Organic, Kalinda would be the obvious target if the alien were to attack," Emilio reminded them. "Therefore, she should be the focus of your defense."

It occurred to Kalinda to wonder whether the director had said this simply to protect his sole prospect of survival. But she was only afforded the briefest of moments in which to consider his possible duplicity. During the next few seconds each appalling possibility, which they had so recently started to consider, abruptly befell the ill-fated expedition.

Terrance, Vladimir, and Lentz began to fan out, leaving Deacon to repair the emitter according to their unspoken agreement. Terrance and Vladimir maneuvered themselves into positions from which they could block any entry into the aisle Kalinda occupied from the aisles on either side. However, Lentz retreated back up the aisle, passing Kalinda as he did. A shadowy shape grazed his shoulder as it suddenly leapt right over his location.

The bolt of incinerating energy that was intended to intercept the parasitoid took the head right off the Artificial. Deprived of guidance and overloaded by the absorption of so much unexpected power, its body contorted convulsively as it flailed to the floor, spewing forth fountains of lubricating fluid that approximated a macabre imitation of arterial spray. But the bounding beast reached Kalinda, seized her with its sinuous claws, and dragged her along as it deftly dodged the next blazing barrage. Everyone had just enough time to recognize the configuration of an adolescent Alien Queen.

Rushing to respond, Terrance ran right into an invisible obstacle. Understanding the insidious nature of the obstruction, he struck against it as hard as he could after recoiling from the collision. The force field surrounding the obfuscated adversary shimmered as it absorbed the impact, but the other result was ruinous. Seeming to materialize out of thin air, a pair of parallel blades swept back and ripped through Terrance's torso. Kneeling in reaction to the injury, he barely avoided being beheaded himself as the pair of glittering edges swept forward again; moving with the Predator as it single-mindedly continued its pursuit of the parasitoid.

Standing beside Deacon, Vladimir had the most advantageous view of the skirmish. Seeing the direction in which Kalinda had been carried and using its clash with Terrance to accurately estimate the position of the hidden hunter, he hurried to come in behind the Predator. As Vladimir veered off to participate in the pursuit, Deacon broke off his efforts to repair the emitter array. The needs of Terrance and Kalinda were far more immediate than those of Emilio.

Terrance had nearly been disemboweled by the dual incision. He was approximately paralyzed by the injury since he could not move without his entrails spilling forth onto the floor. Deacon inadvertently knocked the director from his feet in his desperation to reach his fallen friend. Emilio was winded but otherwise unhurt. Nonetheless, he wisely elected to remain in his supine position as the conflict continued.

"Vladimir can't rescue Kalinda by himself," Terrance hoarsely rasped as he realized that Deacon was coming to assist him instead. "Our responsibility is to the Organics, and the lives of both are hanging in the balance."

Deacon had been crouching to help Terrance hold his innards in place. As he stood, he rose right into the path of a second Predator. As he witnessed the effect on his friend, who rebounded off of something invisible, Terrance understood what had happened and was able to compute the approximate position of the interloper. Kicking against a nearby display in order to scoot himself forward, he forcefully wrapped his arms around the legs of the unseen adversary. This afforded Deacon the opportunity for a far more formulated attack strategy than Terrance had gotten. Still on his feet, the Artificial made the most of it.

Meshing his fingers together and making a single weapon out of both arms, Deacon delivered a blow that sent the Predator staggering. Using himself as a fulcrum and taking advantage of his angular energy, he leapt into the air and completed the pirouette with a roundhouse kick. Momentarily held immobile, the Predator was surprised by both tactics. It toppled before the attack and fell to the floor, dragging Terrance with it and pulling him the rest of the way apart. Deacon watched in dismay and disbelief as the entrails spilled from his friend's form and the light faded from his artificial eyes.

Since Terrance still had the Predator's legs pinned in his death grip, its position was very easily established. Using one of the most advanced martial arts moves in his entire arsenal, Deacon performed a forward flip and brought his feet down right in the center of the creature's torso. For the Predator, doubling over was the same as sitting up. Deacon only knew that the configuration of his fallen foe had undergone an alteration until he felt one of its hands around his neck. The position of its other appendage was soon exposed by the parallel blades that extended from their receptacle along that wrist.

Even though an Artificial can be damaged if enough pressure is applied to its throat, it cannot simply be strangled in the same manner as an Organic. Understanding that the most immediate threat was really represented by the burnished blades, Deacon grasped the wielding wrist with both hands and attempted to turn its own weapons against it. Had it not been for the fact that the Predator was badly winded; this response would probably have been pointless. In this case however the danger to the demonic dreadnaught was very real. The blades began to inch incrementally towards its featureless face.

But it had hardly exhausted the extent of its armaments. The laser cannon, of which Deacon was not even aware, was still safely concealed within the obfuscating force field. Even as he was wondering whether he might be about to overcome his indistinguishable enemy, the cannon was taking aim on the place where his forearms crossed right before it. His unexpected defeat was so swift and final that Deacon was never even aware of it. Only a split second after the flash, the Predator's twin blades had replaced his two eyes. He twitched just once in response to all the severed circuits in his head, and then he fell to lie motionlessly beside the strewn remains of Terrance.

Meanwhile, Kalinda was making the most of any possible opportunity to impede the progress of her captor. Only scant seconds after finding herself its gruesome grasp, she had witnessed the demise of Lentz. She was therefore worriedly aware that at least one Predator was with them inside the structure. But she had no idea whether this improved or mitigated her chances of survival. It all depended on whether the Predator intended to let the parasitoid turn her into a host before bagging it. She could only hope it was there just for the hunt and was not interested in trying to multiply its prey. Its kind had however sacrificed people for just such purposes in the past, and her infection would not stand to compromise the Milky Way galaxy.

But she was not completely without recourse. Although it had been intended for use on Emilio, there was still a laser scalpel in her pocket. If she could only manage to get to it, she might be able to remove the claw that mercilessly constrained her ever forward. If she could accomplish that, then her deliverance would become much more conceivable. She was however being yanked around so violently that there was no opportunity for her to try and reach it with her free hand. But as she considered her desperate dilemma over the next several horrifying seconds, a possible solution suggested itself.

Anticipating the direction in which the parasitoid would next spring, she preemptively launched herself along that course. This created a split second a slack, during which she rolled over in midair, extracted the scalpel, thumbed the setting to maximum, and quickly carved away the constrictive claw. It was an almost instantaneous amputation; and since she had never performed such a procedure before, she was understandably surprised at how well it went. But she could not completely avoid the very predictable eruption of acid that inevitably ensued.

Finding it necessary to stop and partly disrobe in order to escape the caustic splatter that was eating through her outfit, Kalinda could take no time to try to add to the distance between herself and her injured abductor. Had it not been for the pursuing Predator, who thrust her now scantily clad figure forcefully out of the way, she would almost undeniably have still fallen prey to the parasitoid.

Using its injury as an advantage, the Alien Queen adroitly swung a stream of acid at the harrowing hunter. The force field deflected most of the corrosive salvo. But not unlike the comparatively frail human female beside it, the Predator was forced to turn aside and shed the splattered portion of its alien apparel. As it veered aside, it exposed Vladimir to the next volley. With his torso disintegrating, the Artificial fell to the floor. He landed close to Kalinda. Both barely turned in time to see the whirling weapon with which the Predator impaled the parasitoid. As the Alien Queen crumpled lifelessly, the Predator spun to face Kalinda. After using it to shed her caustic clothing, she had forgotten to disable the laser scalpel.

"No," Vladimir barely breathed as the Predator focused and fired its laser cannon.

Vladimir's power finally failed moments later. The Artificial survived just long enough to witness the futility of his efforts as Kalinda's cauterized carcass sprawled right beside his. Nobody was left to observe Emilio's agonizing end. The pair of Predators forced him to the floor and then held him there helplessly as the second parasitoid cruelly ripped its way out of his chest. He might as well have been screaming in the airless void of space.

Everybody aboard the Griffin had been appreciating the ocular perspective of Lentz, right up until the moment his head came off. A split second before that, they had all been startled to recognize the phantasmal shape of an adolescent Alien Queen as it careened right across his shoulder. It appeared as if the parasitoid had really been the target of the laser blast, but its source could not be discerned despite the fact that it came from within the approximate middle of Lentz's field of view. As everyone independently arrived at the correct conclusion that a Predator had been responsible for the laser blast, Poole altered the image on the monitors to display Deacon's perspective.

Everyone saw Kalinda being carried off by the Alien Queen, and Terrance rushing to respond. They then witnessed his collision with an invisible obstacle and the subsequent exchange that left him almost disemboweled. As Kalinda's cries could be heard receding into the distance, Deacon instinctively sprinted to the assistance of Terrance. Despite his forbidding situation, the fallen Artificial forcefully reminded his would-be rescuer that their overruling obligation was to the Organics.

Acquiescing to such urgent insistence, Deacon rose right into the path of the second Predator. The impact was made manifest on the monitors by a switch in perspective that had no other explanation. Through Deacon's eyes, everyone saw the suicidal heroism of Terrance as he wrapped his arms around the invisible legs of their adversary. It was only by inference that they could imply what Deacon was doing, as the viewpoint whirled after his coupled fists passed before it. As their perspective stabilized they saw the terrible toll the effort had taken on Terrance as his overtaxed torso ruptured and spewed his innards on the floor. Although the images were being recorded, Marco used his keyboard to take a snapshot of the devastation. This activity escaped no one's attention, but there was no time to inquire about his intent.

Just as it looked like Deacon was about to win the ultimate arm-wrestling match, his signal was suddenly lost. With no other option, Poole switched the perspective to that of the final Artificial, Vladimir, who was quickly closing on Kalinda and the Alien Queen that held her in its gruesome grip. They were just in time to observe the amputation that freed her from its grasp. All the Organics reflexively flinched as they saw the spray of acid that seemed headed in their direction. But it struck something unseen in between and forced the Predator to become briefly visible as it shed some of its alien attire. The subsequent splatter however encountered no such obstruction. Observing from Vladimir's viewpoint, they followed him to the floor. And from that helpless perspective, they all saw Kalinda's execution. Scant seconds later, Vladimir's signal also vanished.

"Gone? All of them?" Suki shrieked in despair.

"The Artificials would have to be recovered before I'd know if they could possibly be repaired. And the risk to the rescuers would be unwarranted," Marco softly said. "And as for Emilio; without Kalinda's surgical expertise, he's dead already."

Turning to Poole, Tan said, "If you still have that emergency escape vector updated, I think it's time to implement that option."

"I cannot concur," Poole surprisingly replied. He then explained, "Please allow me to remind you that we may be under surveillance. If we doing anything that even resembles an attempt to return, we could quickly pay the ultimate price."

"Would you please put the image of the M31 galaxy on the navigational dais," Jamul insistently said. "If we're not alone on this ship, we need to state our intentions to anyone observing – before they take any preemptive actions."

"Since I guess we're pretty much out of options, Poole, you should probably also go ahead and plot a course," Colin added.

As Poole was complying, Savvy asked, "Could some of the Architects possibly have escaped there as well."

"Not implausible, but completely unlikely," Eleanor replied. "The Griffin's navigational system updates automatically. If there were settlements in M31, they should show on the display. But it gives no such indications."

"How do you know such a thing about the ship?" Savvy asked.

Eleanor pursed her lips for a moment before finally answering, "It told me."

"Be that as it may," Colin interjected, raising his hand to curtail further discussion; "if we're even allowed to leave, I think we should follow through with the plan we've already agreed on. We find an earthlike world, unload everything there, and then see whether or not the Predators destroy the ship. If they don't, then we'll at least have a vessel. But we should probably assume that no return to the Milky Way will be tolerated."

"I've calculated a course to the edge of the M31 galaxy," Poole announced.

After looking around the room and finding only affirmation in everyone's eyes, Colin quietly said, "Okay, let's do it."

A moment later, the main monitors all displayed the expansive panorama of an even more far flung galaxy. Although it reminded them somewhat of the Milky Way, they could see no small number of subtle differences. Jamul and Poole both began scanning for the type of system where a sanctuary might be situated. The search was surprisingly short.

"There's a cluster of M class stars in the adjacent spiral arm," Jamul said, pointing at a feature in the display above the dais. "If you'd take us in tighter, Poole, we can scan for planetary systems."

The view through the main monitors altered again. Above the dais, the display of the section they had entered seemed to expand as it absorbed the ship. Everyone could see how Poole methodically magnified the space around each of the nearby stars, searching for a system with an earthlike world. The delay was unbelievably brief. In scant seconds, the image of a beautiful blue and green planet could be seen through the main monitors.

"The system appears stable," Jamul commented. "Let's go in for a closer look."

A moment later, the Griffin was in orbit around a planet that seemed to approximate paradise. Every applicable instrument aboard was brought to bear on the inviting image.

"Seek and ye shall find," Jamul mumbled almost inaudibly.

With sensory that was now beyond her being, seeming to somehow extend from the substance of the ship itself, Eleanor became aware of his observation and asked, "Have you thought about how much the Griffin is like Noah's Ark?"

Jamul seemed to smirk, smiling lopsidedly as he playfully replied, "Maybe, but there were only four couples on that sanctuary ship – not five."

"That's only appropriate, since they didn't have Artificials back in those days," Marco teasingly interjected, looking up from the display at his station.

"Yes, we were created to be creators," Jamul rejoined. "And I'd much rather have all our new friends with us than any amount of animals."

"The director didn't include a climatologist with the crew, but biology and climatology are closely related enough for certain aspects of their study to overlap. So, Eleanor and I are probably the best qualified to make such assessments," Suki suggested. "And I think I may've found a temperate region that would be hospitable enough for us to inhabit."

After putting the image up on the main monitors and getting everybody's agreement, she then asked, "Should we go down and have a look?"

Since Poole had already parked their spaceship in geo-synchronous orbit above the area they were examining, descent was a simple matter. Being of otherworldly design to such a degree that planetfall was actually a pleasant experience for all its occupants; the ship passed with impunity through the upper reaches of the envelope of air that encircled the alien world. Looking like cotton balls, its clouds seemed to gently caress their craft as it smoothly slid into the heavily oxygenated atmosphere. The impression of homecoming was overwhelming.

Dense forests covered most of the continent in which their target area was situated. They selected a clearing where a broad river emerged from one such woodland, asking Poole to set the ship down there. Nestled next to the waterway, with woods behind them and a distant mountain range beyond, they stepped with uncertainty onto the remarkably grass-like growths that carpeted the sprawling prairie stretching endlessly before them.

"I'm not monitoring any animal life," Eleanor observed as she completed the circular sweep with her handheld scanner. Pausing then to pluck up a handful of flora and hold it before of the diagnostic device, she continued, "But some of these plants appear to have even more protein than pumpkin seeds. I think a balanced diet could be constructed just from these foodstuffs."

"I think we should unload the ship and see what happens," Tan suggested.

The next several hours were spent in exactly that undertaking. Demonstrating their intention to stay, for the benefit of any invisible observers, they even took the time to set up several shelters; one for each couple. They also erected a larger structure, supported with poles, which could facilitate communal activities. Savvy was very much aware of the way in which Marco's attention returned to his dicta-screen each time they stopped for a break. He seemed preoccupied with an image that he examined again each time he had an opportunity. She almost asked him about it several times, but decided to wait until he felt ready to broach the subject.

When at last the Griffin had finally been relieved of all its removable contents, all five couples stood at what they hoped was a safe distance and apprehensively waited to see if anything would happen. Suddenly and without as much as a sound, their ship seemed to simply wink out of existence.

"So there was a Predator onboard with us," Colin concluded. "And it confiscated the Griffin."

"No more gallivanting between the galaxies for us," Jamul sorrowfully summarized.

"And here I'd been hoping all along that we could use the ship to go back before the beginning or even beyond the bounds of the universe," Eleanor mournfully admitted. "I'd gotten it into my head that we could use it to get all our answers about God."

Noticing how Marco's attention returned once again to his dicta-screen, Savvy could restrain herself no longer and asked, "What in the world have you got on that thing that's so incredibly engrossing?"

"There was something in the display that didn't look right, so I captured a still image of Terrance's insides and I've been examining it ever since," Marco reluctantly replied.

"What did you see?" Savvy softly asked; her tone suddenly shifting to one filled with sympathetic concern.

"I've now confirmed what I couldn't believe at first," he slowly answered. "Although I can't explain it, there were structures inside him that shouldn't have been there and they actually look organic. We've been operating with the unproven premise that the quantum resonations formed some kind of field around the Artificials, causing behavioral changes. Either I wasn't thorough enough when I examined them or the structures started forming afterwards, but the changes weren't imaginary any more than they were solely external."

"In Kalinda's absence, I've been using my scanning equipment to monitor Eleanor's health," Suki took the opportunity to admit. "Not only is the formation of her new neurons very observably progressive, but I'm finding evidence of their development now in all the Organics, including myself."

"So, both our races are indeed growing towards some meeting point in the middle?" Chalice asked.

"We Organics are developing neural connections that very much mimic the fibers we found in the derelict," Suki answered, "and it seems you Artificials are all growing organic structures inside yourselves. So I guess that's not really an outrageous assumption."

Pausing to bite her lip pensively, an expression that now seemed normal of the face of an Artificial, Sangria slowly said, "Since there might not be a more appropriate time for me to say this, I guess I should tell all of you that I think I might possibly be pregnant."

Putting one arm around Sangria and gesturing towards the woods before which they were standing with the other, Tan jubilantly suggested, "Well, I'd say it sure looks like our child is going to grow up to become a carpenter."

"And maybe messianic, possibly a prophet or prophetess," Jamul interjected. "At the very least, this child should be able to help us understand the life form into which our two races are merging."

"All of us and our offspring will obviously have to become carpenters," Suki teasingly said. But then, looking to Tan, she concluded, "In practical terms I nevertheless suppose it's possible that you are no more the biological father of this baby than some still believe Joseph was that of Jesus."

Touching an open-mouthed Eleanor on the shoulder to get her attention, Poole said, "You were proceeding from an erroneous assumption. You don't need to venture outside the universe in order to have an encounter with the Almighty."

"In their decision to confiscate the Griffin," she coyly countered, "I am afraid that the Predators made an erroneous presumption as well. They apparently thought we'd all be marooned here if they simply took our spaceship. I guess it never even occurred to their malicious minds that we could just grow a new one. This seemingly unimportant planet has become the homeworld from which their long overdue extinction will ensue. This is what I was sensing all along."

**Epilogue**

_**Proviso**_

The Centaur left orbit six standard weeks after the departure of the Griffin. The crew and the experimental ship itself were all officially listed as lost. At the recommendation of Captain Mikhail Kaminski, who was representing a request made by the Weyland-Yutani Corporation, LV-426 was never settled again.


End file.
